LETTERS.

Boston.

RESPECTED AND DEAR MADAM,

Conformably to my promise, when I left your abode, the first efforts of my pen are dedicated to you. The pleasure which arises from the recollection of your more than maternal kindness to me, especially your unwearied endeavors to refine and embellish my mind and to lay the foundation of right principles and practices, is interwoven with my existence; and no time or circumstances can erase my gratitude.

I arrived last evening safely; and was affectionately received by my honored parents, and beloved brothers and sisters. The emotions of regret which I felt in the morning, at the painful separation from you and my dear school-mates, with whom I have lived so happily, had not wholly subsided. I could not help listening, now and then, for some judicious observation from my Preceptress; and frequently cast my eyes around in search of some of the amiable companions, amongwhom I had been used to unbend every thought.

The splendor of the apartments gave me ideas of restraint that were painful; and I looked abroad for the green, where we were wont to gambol, and the lawn where we so often held our twilight sports, and almost fancied that we sometimes caught a glimpse of the attendant Sylphs who played around us; but in vain. Stately domes, crowded streets, rattling carriages, and all the noise and confusion of a commercial city were substituted. I retired to bed, and was awaked in the night by the riotous mirth of a number of Bacchanalians, reeling from the haunts of intemperance and excess.

Alas! said I, this is not the Æolian harp that used to soothe our slumbers at the boarding school. I composed myself again; but awoke at the accustomed hour of five. I arose; and, having praised my Maker for the preservations of the night, walked down. Not a living creature was stirring in the house.

I took a turn in the garden. Here art seemed to reign so perfectly mistress, that I was apprehensive lest I should injure her charms by viewing them.

I accordingly retired to the summer-house, and, having a book in my hand, sat down and read till the clock struck seven. I then thought it must be breakfast time, and returned to the house; but was much disappointedto find none of the family up, except one man servant and the house maid who had just crept down.

They appeared perfectly astonished to see me come in from abroad; and the girl respectfully inquired if indisposition had occasioned my rising so early. I told her no; that the wish to preserve my health had called me up two hours before. Well, rejoined she, you will not find any body to keep you company here for two hours to come. I was chagrined at the information, and asked her for a bowl of milk, it being past my usual breakfast time. The milk man had just arrived, and I drank some; but it had lost its flavor on the road. It was not like that which was served us at Harmony-Grove. I stepped to the harpsichord, and having sung and played a morning hymn, returned to my chamber, where, taking my work, I sat down by the window to view the listless tribe of yawning mortals who were beginning to thicken in the streets. One half of these appeared to be dragged forth by necessity, rather than any inclination to enjoy the beauties of a fine morning.

At nine, I was summoned into the parlor to breakfast. My sisters gently chid me for disturbing their repose with my music. I excused myself by alleging that I had been so long accustomed to early rising that I should find it difficult to alter the habit.

Here, madam, you have an account of my first night and morning’s occupation. WereI to proceed with every new occurrence, through the year, and subjoin my own remarks, I must write volumes instead of letters.

Please to communicate this scroll to your amiable daughters, and remind them of their promise to write.

A line from Harmony-Grove would be a luxury to me.

Meanwhile, permit me still to subscribe myself, with the utmost respect your grateful pupil,

HARRIOT HENLY.

Boston.

DEAR MATILDA,

I did not intend when we parted at the boarding school, that a whole month should have elapsed without bearing you some testimony of my continued friendship and affection; but so numerous have been my avocations, and so various my engagements, that I have scarcely called a moment my own since I returned home. Having been from town a year, I was considered as too antique to appearin company abroad, till I had been perfectly metamorphosed. Every part of my habit has undergone a complete change, in conformity to the present fashion. It was with extreme regret that I parted with the neatness and simplicity of my country dress; which, according to my ideas of modesty, was more becoming. But I trust, this alteration of appearance will have no tendency to alienate those sentiments from my heart which I imbibed under the tuition of Mrs. Williams.

I went, last evening, to the assembly; but though dazzled, I was by no means charmed, by the glare of finery and tinselled decorations that were displayed.

There were some ladies, whose gentility and fashionable dress were evidently the product of a correct taste; but others were so disguised by tawdry gewgaws, as to disgust me exceedingly.

Mrs. Williams used to say, that the dress was indicative of the mind. If this observation be just, what opinion am I to form of the gay multitudes who trip along the streets and throng the places of public resort in this metropolis; the lightness and gaudiness of whose appearance, bespeak a sickly taste, to say no more.

I am furnished with feathers, flowers, and ribbons in profusion. I shall, however, use them very sparingly; and though I would not be entirely singular, yet I must insist on consulting my own fancy a little, and cannot willinglysacrifice my own opinion to the capricious whims of fashion, and her devotees. My aunt Lawrence, who you know, is extravagantly genteel, is making us a visit. She laughs very heartily at my silly notions, as she calls them, and styles me a novice in the ways of the world: but hopes, notwithstanding, that I shall acquire a better taste when I am more acquainted with fashionable life. That I may be much improved by a more extensive knowledge of the world, I doubt not; yet may I never be corrupted by that levity and folly, which are too prevalent among a part of my sex.

“I will not, however, censure and condemn others; but attend to myself and be humble. Adieu.”

LAURA GUILFORD

Harmony-Grove.

DEAR MATILDA,

The tear of regret for your departure is scarcely dried from the cheek of your Maria; and the pleasing remembrance of the happiness I have enjoyed in your society is accompaniedwith a sigh, whenever I reflect that it exists no more.

My mamma has observed that those friendships which are formed in youth, provided they be well founded, are the most sincere, lively and durable. I am sure that the ardency of mine can never abate; my affectionate regard for you can never decay.

We have another class of boarders; but you and your amiable companions had so entirely engrossed my confidence and esteem, that I shall find it difficult to transfer them, in any degree, to others. The sensations of Anna are very different, though she is capable of the most refined friendship. The natural vivacity, and, as I tell her, the volatility of her disposition, renders a variety of associates pleasing to her.

In order to recall your ideas to the exercises of Harmony-Grove, I enclose the sallies of my pen for this morning, fully assured of your candour and generosity in the perusal.

Pray omit no opportunity of writing, and favor me with your observations on the polite world. I shall receive every line as a pledge of your continued love to your

MARIA WILLIAMS.

AN ODE ON SPRING.Enclosed in the preceding Letter.

AN ODE ON SPRING.

Enclosed in the preceding Letter.

Hail delight-restoring spring!Balmy pleasures with thee bring;Aromatic gales dispense,Misty vapours banish hence.Blithe the jocund hinds appear,Joy supports returning care,Mirth the ready hand attends,Pleasing hope the toil befriends.Hark! the shady groves resound,Love and praise re-echo round,Music floats in every gale,Peace and harmony prevail.Here no stormy passions rise,Here no feuds impede our joys,Here ambition never roams,Pride or envy never comes.Come Matilda; ruddy mornTempts us o’er the spacious lawn;Spring’s reviving charms inviteEvery sense to taste delight;Such delights as never cloy,Health and innocence enjoy.Youth’s the spring-time of our years,Short the rapid scene appears;Let’s improve the fleeting hours,Virtue’s noblest fruits be ours.

Hail delight-restoring spring!

Balmy pleasures with thee bring;

Aromatic gales dispense,

Misty vapours banish hence.

Blithe the jocund hinds appear,

Joy supports returning care,

Mirth the ready hand attends,

Pleasing hope the toil befriends.

Hark! the shady groves resound,

Love and praise re-echo round,

Music floats in every gale,

Peace and harmony prevail.

Here no stormy passions rise,

Here no feuds impede our joys,

Here ambition never roams,

Pride or envy never comes.

Come Matilda; ruddy morn

Tempts us o’er the spacious lawn;

Spring’s reviving charms invite

Every sense to taste delight;

Such delights as never cloy,

Health and innocence enjoy.

Youth’s the spring-time of our years,

Short the rapid scene appears;

Let’s improve the fleeting hours,

Virtue’s noblest fruits be ours.

Boston.

You have left—you have forsaken me, Caroline! But I will haunt you with my letters;obtrude myself upon your remembrance; and extort from you the continuance of your friendship!

What do I say? Obtrude and extort! Can these harsh words be used when I am addressing the generous and faithful Caroline?

But you have often encouraged my eccentricities by your smile, and must therefore still indulge them.

Nature has furnished me with a gay disposition; and happy is it for me, that a lax education has not strengthened the folly too commonly arising from it.

Mrs. Williams’ instructions were very seasonably interposed to impress my mind with a sense of virtue and propriety. I trust they have had the desired effect; and that they will prove the guardian of my youth, and the directory of maturer age. How often has the dear, good woman taken me into her chamber, and reminded me of indecorums of which I was unconscious at the time; but thankful afterwards that they had not escaped her judicious eye; as her observations tended to rectify my errors, and render me more cautious and circumspect in future. How salutary is advice like her’s; conveyed, not with the dogmatic air of supercilious wisdom, but with the condescending ease and soothing kindness of an affectionate parent, anxiously concerned for the best good of those under her care!

I was very happy at Harmony-Grove; and the result of that happiness, I hope, will accompany me through life.

Yet I find the gaiety of the town adapted to my taste; nor does even Mrs. Williams condemn the enjoyment of its pleasures.

I was, last evening, at a ball, and I assure you, the attention I gained, and the gallantry displayed to attract my notice and approbation, were very flattering to my vanity; though I could not forbear inwardly smiling at the futile arts of the pretty fellows who exhibited them.

Their speeches appeared to have been so long practised, that I was on the point of advising them to exercise their genius, if they had any, in the invention of something new. But a polite conformity to the ton restrained my satire, Adieu.

JULIA GREENFIELD.

Newburyport.

I am disappointed and displeased, Cleora! I have long been anxious to procure the Marchioness de Sevigne’s letters, having often heard them mentioned as standards of taste and elegance in the epistolary way. This excited my curiosity, and raised my hopes of finding a rich entertainment of wit and sentiment. Ihave perused, and perused in vain; for they answer not my ideas of either. They are replete with local circumstances, which to indifferent readers, are neither amusing nor interesting. True, the style is easy and sprightly; but they are chiefly composed of family matters, such as relate to her own movements and those of her daughter; many of which are of too trifling a nature to be ranked in the class of elegant writing. I own myself, however, not a competent judge of their merit as a whole, even in my own estimation; for I have read the two first volumes only.

That letters ought to be written with the familiarity of personal conversation, I allow; yet many such conversations, even between persons of taste and refinement, are unworthy the public attention.

Equal was my chagrin, not long since, on reading Pope’s letters. He, said I to myself, who bears the palm from all contemporary poets, and who is so consummate a master of this divine art, must surely furnish a source of superior entertainment, when he descends to friendly and social communications.

Indeed, there are good sentiments and judicious observations, interspersed in his letters; but the greater part of them have little other merit than what arises from the style.

Perhaps you will charge me with arrogance for presuming to criticise, much more to condemn,publications which have so long been sanctioned by general approbation. Independent in opinion, I write it without reserve, and censure not any one who thinks differently. Give me your sentiments with the same freedom upon the books which you honor with a perusal, and you will oblige your affectionate

CAROLINE LITTLETON.

Salem.

DEAR CAROLINE,

I received yours with those lively sensations of pleasure which your favors always afford. As I was perusing it, my papa came into the room. He took it out of my hand and read it; then returning it with the smile of approbation, I think, said he, that your correspondent has played the critic very well. Has she played it justly, Sir? said I. Why, it is a long time, said he, since I read the Marchioness de Sevigne’s letters. I am not, therefore, judge of their merit. But with regard to Pope, I blame not the sex for retaliating upon him; for he always treated them satirically. I believe revenge was no partof my friend’s plan, said I. She is far superior to so malignant a passion, though, were she capable of seeking it, it would be in behalf of her sex.

Company now coming in, the conversation shifted.

I have often smiled at the pitiful wit of those satirists and essayists, who lavish abundant eloquence on trifling foibles, the mere whims of a day; and of no consequence to the body natural, moral, or political. The extension of a hoop, the contraction of the waist, or the elevation of the head-dress, frequently afford matter for pages of elaborate discussion. These reformers, too, always aim at the good of our sex! I think it a great pity they do not lop off some of their own exuberant follies; though perhaps they wish us to exchange labours; and in return for their benevolent exertions, that we endeavor to expose and correct their errors. I have sometimes thought their satire to be tinctured with malice; and that the cause of their disaffection may generally be found in personal resentment. Had Pope and his coadjutors been favourites with the ladies, I doubt not but they would have found more excellencies in them than they have ever yet allowed.

I have lately been reading the generous and polite Fitzorsborne’s letters; and I need not tell you how much I was pleased and charmed with them.

The justness of his sentiments, and the easeand elegance of his diction, are at once interesting and improving. His letter and ode to his wife on the anniversary of their marriage, surpass any thing of the kind I have ever read. I verily think, that, had I the offer of a heart capable of dictating such manly tenderness of expression, and such pathetic energy of generous love, I should be willing to give my hand in return, and assent to those solemn words, “love, honor, and—(I had almost said) obey.” Adieu.

CLEORA PARTRIDGE.

Newburyport.

DEAR CLEORA,

I agree with you, that the habits of the weak and vain are too insignificant to employ the pens of those, whose literary talents might produce great and good effects in the political, moral, and religious state of things. Were absurd fashions adopted only by those whose frivolity renders them the dupes of folly, and whose example can have no effect on the considerate and judicious part of the community, I should think them below the attention ofstatesmen, philosophers, and divines: but this is not the case. The votaries and the inventors of the most fantastical fashions are found in the ranks of, what is called, refined and polished society; from whom we might hope for examples of elegance and propriety, both in dress and behaviour. By these, luxury and extravagance are sanctioned. Their influence upon the poorer class is increased; who, emulous of imitating their superiors, thinkthatthe most eligible appearance, (however beyond their income, or unsuitable to their circumstances and condition in life) which is preferred and countenanced by their wealthier neighbors.

Absurd and expensive fashions, then, are injurious to society at large, and require some check; and why is not satire levelled against them, laudable in its design, and likely to produce a good effect? Adieu.

CAROLINE LITTLETON.

Harmony-grove.

DEAR MATILDA,

Notwithstanding the coldness of the season, every heart seems to be enlivened, andevery mind exhilarated by the anniversary of the new year. Why this day is so peculiarly marked out for congratulations, I shall not now inquire; but in compliance with the prevailing custom of expressing good wishes on the occasion, I send you mine in a scribble

Early I greet the opening year,While friendship bids the muse appear,To wish Matilda blest.The muse, devoid of selfish art,Obeys the dictates of a heart,Which warms a friendly breast.The rolling earth again has runHer annual circuit round the sun,And whirl’d the year away;She now her wonted course renews,Her orbit’s track again pursues;Nor feels the least decay.How soon the fleeting hours are gone!The rapid wheels of time glide on,Which bring the seasons round.Winter disrobes the smiling plain,But spring restores its charms again,And decks the fertile ground.The sweet returns of cheerful MayCome with a vivifying ray,Inspiring new delight:Beclad with every various charmTo please the eye, the fancy warm,And animate the sight.But youth no kind renewal knows;Swiftly the blooming season goes,And brings the frost of age!No more the vernal sun appears,To gild the painful round of years,And wintry damps assuage.With rapid haste, the moments fly,Which you and I, my friend, enjoy;And they return no more!Then let us wisely now improveThe downy moments, as they rove,Which nature can’t restore.O source of wisdom! we imploreThy aid to guide us safely o’erThe slippery paths of youth:O deign to lend a steady rayTo point the sure, the certain wayTo honor and to truth!Let thy unerring influence shedIts blessings on Matilda’s head,While piety and peace,Thy genuine offspring round her wait,And guard her through this transient state,To joys that never cease!May constant health its charms extend,And fortune every blessing lend,To crown each passing day;May pleasures in succession shine,And every heart-felt bliss be thine,Without the least allay.

Early I greet the opening year,While friendship bids the muse appear,To wish Matilda blest.The muse, devoid of selfish art,Obeys the dictates of a heart,Which warms a friendly breast.

Early I greet the opening year,

While friendship bids the muse appear,

To wish Matilda blest.

The muse, devoid of selfish art,

Obeys the dictates of a heart,

Which warms a friendly breast.

The rolling earth again has runHer annual circuit round the sun,And whirl’d the year away;She now her wonted course renews,Her orbit’s track again pursues;Nor feels the least decay.

The rolling earth again has run

Her annual circuit round the sun,

And whirl’d the year away;

She now her wonted course renews,

Her orbit’s track again pursues;

Nor feels the least decay.

How soon the fleeting hours are gone!The rapid wheels of time glide on,Which bring the seasons round.Winter disrobes the smiling plain,But spring restores its charms again,And decks the fertile ground.

How soon the fleeting hours are gone!

The rapid wheels of time glide on,

Which bring the seasons round.

Winter disrobes the smiling plain,

But spring restores its charms again,

And decks the fertile ground.

The sweet returns of cheerful MayCome with a vivifying ray,Inspiring new delight:Beclad with every various charmTo please the eye, the fancy warm,And animate the sight.

The sweet returns of cheerful May

Come with a vivifying ray,

Inspiring new delight:

Beclad with every various charm

To please the eye, the fancy warm,

And animate the sight.

But youth no kind renewal knows;Swiftly the blooming season goes,And brings the frost of age!No more the vernal sun appears,To gild the painful round of years,And wintry damps assuage.

But youth no kind renewal knows;

Swiftly the blooming season goes,

And brings the frost of age!

No more the vernal sun appears,

To gild the painful round of years,

And wintry damps assuage.

With rapid haste, the moments fly,Which you and I, my friend, enjoy;And they return no more!Then let us wisely now improveThe downy moments, as they rove,Which nature can’t restore.

With rapid haste, the moments fly,

Which you and I, my friend, enjoy;

And they return no more!

Then let us wisely now improve

The downy moments, as they rove,

Which nature can’t restore.

O source of wisdom! we imploreThy aid to guide us safely o’erThe slippery paths of youth:O deign to lend a steady rayTo point the sure, the certain wayTo honor and to truth!

O source of wisdom! we implore

Thy aid to guide us safely o’er

The slippery paths of youth:

O deign to lend a steady ray

To point the sure, the certain way

To honor and to truth!

Let thy unerring influence shedIts blessings on Matilda’s head,While piety and peace,Thy genuine offspring round her wait,And guard her through this transient state,To joys that never cease!

Let thy unerring influence shed

Its blessings on Matilda’s head,

While piety and peace,

Thy genuine offspring round her wait,

And guard her through this transient state,

To joys that never cease!

May constant health its charms extend,And fortune every blessing lend,To crown each passing day;May pleasures in succession shine,And every heart-felt bliss be thine,Without the least allay.

May constant health its charms extend,

And fortune every blessing lend,

To crown each passing day;

May pleasures in succession shine,

And every heart-felt bliss be thine,

Without the least allay.

MARIA WILLIAMS.

Boston.

DEAR CLEORA,

I have this week engaged in the celebration of the nuptials of my friend, AmandaSouth. A splendid wedding, a gay company, an elegant supper, and a magnificent ball, were the sum of our entertainment.

I imagine such exhilarating scenes designed to dispel the anxiety and thoughtfulness, which every reflecting person must feel on this solemn occasion. This untried state presents to the apprehensive mind such a variety of new cares and duties, that cheerfulness, festivity and hilarity seem necessary to banish the thought of them, so far as to render a delicate and sensible female sufficiently composed to conduct with propriety. But I must confess that were I called to the trial, I should choose to retire from the observation of those indifferent and unfeeling spectators, to whom the blushing modesty of a bride is often a pastime.

Indeed, Cleora, when we look around the world and observe the great number of unhappy marriages, which were contracted with the brightest prospects, yet from some unforeseen cause, have involved the parties in wretchedness for life, we may well indulge a diffidence of our own abilities to discharge the duties of the station, and be solicitous that our future companion should in all respects be qualified to assist in bearing the burdens of the conjugal state.

Experience only can determine how far we are right in the judgment we form of ourselves, and of the person of our choice. So many are the deceptions which love and courtshipimpose upon their votaries, that I believe it very difficult for the parties concerned to judge impartially, or to discern faults, where they look only for virtues. Hence they are so frequently misled in their opinions, and find, too late, the errors into which they have been betrayed.

When do you come to Boston, Cleora? I am impatient for your society; because your friendship is void of flattery, and your sincerity and cheerfulness are always agreeable and advantageous. Adieu.

HARRIOT HENLY.

Salem.

Indeed, Harriot, I open your letters with as much gravity as I would a sermon; you have such a knack of moralizing upon every event! What mortal else would feel serious and sentimental at a wedding? Positively, you shall not come to mine. Your presence, I fear, would put such a restraint upon me, as to render me quite foolish and awkward in my appearance.

However, I must acknowledge it a weighty affair; and what you say has, perhaps, too much truth in it to be jested with. I believe, therefore, we had better resolve not to risk the consequences of a wrong choice, or imprudent conduct; but wisely devote ourselves to celibacy. I am sure we should make a couple of very clever old maids. If you agree to this proposition, we will begin in season to accustom ourselves to the virtues and habits of a single life. By observing what is amiss in the conduct of others in the same state, and avoiding their errors, I doubt not but we may bring even the title into repute. In this way we shall be useful to many of our own sex, though I am aware it would be a most grievous dispensation to a couple of the other; but no matter for that.

The world needs some such examples as we might become; and if we can be instrumental of retrievingold-maidismfrom the imputation of ill-nature, oddity, and many other mortifying charges, which are now brought against it, I believe we shall save many a good girl from an unequal and unhappy marriage. It might have a salutary effect on the other sex too. Finding the ladies independent in sentiment, they would be impelled to greater circumspection of conduct to merit their favor.

You see that my benevolence is extensive. I wish to become a general reformer. What say you to my plan, Harriot? If you approveit, dismiss your long train of admirers immediately, and act not the part of a coquette, by retaining them out of pride or vanity. We must rise above such narrow views, and let the world know that we act from principle, if we mean to do good by our example. I shall continue to receive the addresses of this same Junius, till I hear that you have acceded to my proposal; and then, display my fortitude by renouncing a connexion which must be doubtful as to the issue, and will certainly expose me to the mortification of being looked at, when I am married. Farewell.

CLEORA PARTRIDGE.

Boston.

DEAR CAROLINE,

I have just returned from a rural excursion, where, in the thicket of a grove, I enjoyed all the luxury of solitude. The sun had nearly finished his diurnal course, and was leaving our hemisphere to illuminate the other with his cheering rays.

The sprightly songsters had retired to their bowers, and were distending their littlethroats with a tribute of instinctive gratitude and praise.

The vocal strains re-echoed from tree to tree and invited me to join the responsive notes. My heart expanded with devotion and benevolence. I wished the whole human kind to share the feelings of happiness which I enjoyed; while the inanimate creation around seemed to partake of my satisfaction! Methought the fields assumed a livelier verdure; and the zephyrs were unusually officious in wafting the fragrance of aromatic gales. I surveyed the surrounding scenery with rapturous admiration; and my heart glowed with inexpressible delight at the lovely appearance of nature, and the diffusive bounties of its almighty author.

Let others, said I, exult in stately domes, and the superfluities of pomp; immerse themselves in the splendid novelties of fashion, and a promiscuous crowd of giddy amusements! I envy them not.

Give me a mind to range the sylvan scene,And taste the blessings of the vernal day;While social joys, and friendly, interveneTo chase the gloomy cares of life away.

Give me a mind to range the sylvan scene,

And taste the blessings of the vernal day;

While social joys, and friendly, intervene

To chase the gloomy cares of life away.

I wish not to abandon society, nor to resign the pleasures which it affords; but it is a select number of friends, not a promiscuous crowd, which I prefer.

When the mind is much engrossed by dissipating pleasures, it is apt to forget itself, andneglect its own dignity and improvement. It is necessary often to retreat from the noise and bustle of the world, and commune with our own hearts. By this mean we shall be the better qualified both to discharge the duties and participate in the enjoyments of life.

Solitude affords a nearer and more distinct view of the works of creation; elevates the mind, and purifies its passions and affections.

O solitude! in thee the boundless mindExpands itself, and revels unconfin’d;From thee, each vain, each grov’lling passion flies,And all the virtues of the soul arise.

O solitude! in thee the boundless mind

Expands itself, and revels unconfin’d;

From thee, each vain, each grov’lling passion flies,

And all the virtues of the soul arise.

Adieu,

JULIA GREENFIELD.

Boston.

MY DEAR LAURA,

Rambling in the garden, I have picked a nosegay, which I transmit to you as a token of my remembrance. Though the poetical bagatelle which accompanies it, is not equal to the elegance of the subject; yet I confide in your candor to excuse its futility, and give a favorable interpretation to its design.

Laura, this little gift approve,Pluck’d by the hand of cordial love!With nicest care the wreath I’ve dress’d,Fit to adorn your friendly breast.The rose and lily are combin’d,As emblems of your virtuous mind!Pure as the first is seen in theeSweet blushing sensibility.Carnations here their charms display,And nature shines in rich array,Od’rous, as virtue’s accents sweet,From Laura’s lips with wit replete.The myrtle with the laurel bound,And purple amaranthus crown’d,Within this little knot unite,Like Laura’s charms, to give delight!Fair, fragrant, soft, like beauty dress’d;So she unrivalled stands confess’d;While blending still each finish’d grace,Her virtues in her mien we trace!Virtues, which far all tints outshine,And, verdant brave the frost of time.

Laura, this little gift approve,

Pluck’d by the hand of cordial love!

With nicest care the wreath I’ve dress’d,

Fit to adorn your friendly breast.

The rose and lily are combin’d,

As emblems of your virtuous mind!

Pure as the first is seen in thee

Sweet blushing sensibility.

Carnations here their charms display,

And nature shines in rich array,

Od’rous, as virtue’s accents sweet,

From Laura’s lips with wit replete.

The myrtle with the laurel bound,

And purple amaranthus crown’d,

Within this little knot unite,

Like Laura’s charms, to give delight!

Fair, fragrant, soft, like beauty dress’d;

So she unrivalled stands confess’d;

While blending still each finish’d grace,

Her virtues in her mien we trace!

Virtues, which far all tints outshine,

And, verdant brave the frost of time.

I am, &c.

SOPHIA MANCHESTER.

Boston.

DEAR SISTER,

I am not so far engaged by the new scenes of fashionable gaiety which surround me, as toforget you and the other dear friends, whom I left at Harmony-Grove. Yet so great is the novelty which I find in this crowded metropolis, that you cannot wonder if my attention is very much engrossed. Mr. and Mrs. Henly, with their amiable daughters, are extremely polite and attentive to me; and having taken every method to contribute to my amusement, I went yesterday, in their company, to Commencement, at Cambridge; and was very much entertained with the exhibition. I pretend not to be a judge of the talents displayed by the young gentlemen who took an active part, or of the proficiency they had made in science. I have an opinion of my own, notwithstanding; and can tell how far my eye and ear were gratified.

I never knew before, that dress was a classical study; which I now conclude it must be, or it would not have exercised the genius of some of the principal speakers on this public occasion.

The female garb too, seemed to claim particular attention. Thebon ton, taste and fashions of our sex, afforded a subject of declamation to the orator; and of entertainment to the audience, composed, in part, of our legislators, politicians, and divines! I could not but think that those scholars who employ their time in studying, investigating and criticising the ladies’ dresses, might as well be occupied in the business of a friseur or the man-milliner; either of which would afford them morefrequent opportunities for the display of their abilities, and render their labors more extensively useful to the sex. Others might then improve the time, which they thus frivolously engrossed on this anniversary, in contributing to the entertainment of theliterati, who doubtless expect to be gratified by the exertions of genius and an apparent progress in those studies, which are designed to qualify the rising youth of America for important stations both in church and state.

The assembly was extremely brilliant; the ladies seemed to vie with each other in magnificent decorations. So much loveliness was visible in their native charms, that without any hint from the speakers of the day, I should have thought it a pity to add those foreign ornaments, which rather obscure than aid them.

I was a little displeased by the unbecoming levity of some of my sex; and am apprehensive lest it might induce misjudging and censorious people to imagine that they were led thither more by the vanity of attracting notice, than to receive any mental entertainment.

Without our consent, we ran a race back to town, which endangered our necks. The avaricious hackman, desirous of returning for another freight, had no mercy on his passengers or horses. However, we arrived safely, though much fatigued by the pleasure of the day.

Pleasure carried to excess degenerates into pain. This I actually experienced; and sighed for the tranquil enjoyments of Harmony grove, to which I propose soon to return, and convince you how affectionately I am your’s,

ANNA WILLIAMS.

Harmony-grove.

DEAR ANNA,

Your enlivening letter restored us, in some measure, to your society; or at least, alleviated the pain of your absence.

I am glad you attended commencement. It was a new scene, and consequently extended your ideas. I think you rather severe on the classical gentlemen. We simple country folks must not presume to arraign their taste, whose learning and abilities render them conspicuous on the literary stage. They, doubtless, write on subjects better adapted to their capacities. As for the follies of fashion, I think the gentlemen are under obligations to the ladies for adopting them; since it gives exercise to their genius and pens.

You were tired, you say, with pleasure. I believe those dissipating scenes, which greatly exhilarate the spirits, call for the whole attention, and oblige us to exert every power, are always fatiguing.

Pleasures of a calmer kind, which are moderately enjoyed, which enliven rather then exhaust, and which yield a serenity of mind on reflection, are the most durable, rational and satisfying. Pleasure is the most alluring object which is presented to the view of the young and inexperienced. Under various forms it courts our attention; but while we are still eager in the pursuit, it eludes our grasp. Its fascinating charms deceive the imagination, and create a bower of bliss in every distant object.

But let us be careful not to fix our affections on any thing, which bears this name, unless it be founded on virtue, and will endure the severest scrutiny of examination.

Our honored mamma, and all your friends here, are impatient for your return. They unitedly long to embrace, and bid you welcome to these seats of simplicity and ease: but none more ardently than your affectionate sister,

MARY WILLIAMS.

To MissMATILDA FIELDING.

Boston.

DEAR MATILDA,

Anxious to make the best possible use of the education I have received; and fully impressed with the idea, that the human mind is capable of continual improvements, it is my constant endeavor to extract honey from every flower which falls in my way, or, to speak without a figure, to derive advantage from every incident. Pursuant to the advice of our excellent Preceptress, I keep this perpetually in view; and am therefore disappointed when defeated in the attempt.

This afternoon I have been in company with three ladies, celebrated for their beauty and wit. One of them I think may justly claim the reputation of beauty. To a finished form, and florid complexion, an engaging, animating countenance is added. Yet a consciousness of superior charms was apparent in her deportment; and a supercilious air counteracted the effects of her personal accomplishments. The two others were evidently more indebted to art than to nature for their appearance. It might easily be discovered that paint constituted all the delicacy of their complexion.

What a pity that so many are deceived in their ideas of beauty! Certain it is, that artificial additions serve rather to impair than increase its power. “Who can paint like nature?” What hand is skilful enough to supply her defects? Do not those who attempt it always fail, and render themselves disgusting? Do they not really injure what they strive to mend; and make it more indifferent than usual, when divested of its temporary embellishments? Beauty cannot possibly maintain its sway over its most obsequious votaries, unless the manners and the mind unitedly contribute to secure it. How vain then is this subterfuge! It may deceive the eye and gain the flattery of the prattling coxcomb; but accumulated neglect and mortification inevitably await those who trust in the wretched alternative.

From their good sense, I had been led to expect the greatest entertainment. I therefore waited impatiently till the first compliments were over, and conversation commenced.

But to my extreme regret, I found it to consist of ludicrous insinuations, hackneyed jests and satirical remarks upon others of their acquaintance who were absent. The pretty fellows of the town were criticised; and their own adventures in shopping, were related with so much minuteness, hilarity, and glee, that I blushed for the frivolous levity of those of my sex, who could substitute buffoonery forwit, and the effusions of a perverted imagination, for that refined and improving conversation, which a well cultivated mind and a correct taste are calculated to afford.

If, said I, to myself, this be the beauty and the wit of polished society, restore me again to the native simplicity and sincerity of Harmony-Grove.

I took my leave as soon as politeness would allow; and left them to animadvert upon me. Independent for happiness on the praise or censure of superficial minds, let me ever be conscious of meriting approbation, and I shall rest contented in the certain prospect of receiving it. Adieu.

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