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'My aunt and sisters, I know," said Frederick, modestly disclaim the possession of equal talents with our sex, but I should like to know your opinion, papa."

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Considering the disadvantages to which I have alluded, it would, perhaps, be difficult or invidious to judge simply from past experience, if reason and Scripture did not both agree in deciding that woman is the 'weaker vessel.' If, however, there is a comparative inferiority, there is yet equal perfection in relation to the sphere each is appointed to fill. The rose is not less beautiful and admirable, because it has not the stature and strength of the cedar, and the mutual adaptation of the mental and moral qualities of the sexes to each other, is one of the instances of universal wisdom and beneficence, by which mutual dependence conduces to mutual benevolence and harmony. The difference between them is, I think, not in the nature, but the degree, of their mental and moral qualities. Man excels in strength of reason, correctness of judgment, depth of penetration, loftiness of imagination;-woman, in quickness of perception, acuteness of observation, liveliness of fancy, delicacy of taste. In philosophy and literature, the province of the former is to discover, defend, and enforce truth; that of the latter, to simplify, illustrate, and adorn it. In poetry, man is the interpreter of passion; woman, the delineator of feeling. As it regards the qualities of the heart, courage, firmness, decision, appear to be the attributes of our sex ;— tenderness, patience, quiet perseverance, of yours. Our affections are more ardent, yours more constant."

It

"A correct view," said Mrs. Cecil, "of the respective endowments of the sexes, will, perhaps, be some guide in determining the education they should receive. is the design of culture to aid nature, and therefore education for a class of persons, as well as for an individual, should be directed to the development of those faculties in which they are most deficient.”

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Surely," replied her brother.

"Without the ab

surdity of expecting that education will make every individual, or the two sexes, equal, it should be so directed as to produce, as far as possible, that balance and harmony in the mental and moral powers of which nature gives us occasional specimens in her most perfect works. This, certainly, has not been hitherto done for your sex, nor, perhaps, entirely for our own: we might have more elegance, grace, and gentleness, in literature, manners, and morals, without impairing our strength."

[Some time after the above was written, the Author was much gratified to hear that her plan had been anticipated in the United States of America, where one or two similar institutions are already in successful operation. While these sheets have been passing through the press, she has also met with an account of two schools in Edinburgh conducted just on the same principles; and of an institution for the education of governesses at Cork, which enjoyed the distinguished patronage of the late Mrs. H. More, and includes among its presidents and directors ladies of the first rank and influence in the Sister Isle. Surely England will not be slow to imitate these excellent examples.]

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE SELFISH TEMPTER.

"I FEAR, papa," said Frederick, after his friend Augustus Swift had taken leave, " you thought I pressed Augustus to stay longer, merely to try whether he would yield to his prevailing weakness of indecision; but I have not forgotten your admonition, and hope never to be guilty of that fault again."

"I am very glad to hear it, my dear boy; for, to tempt the weaknesses of others, in order that we may ridicule or triumph over them, is a base and cruel selfishness, of which I should be deeply ashamed in either of my children. I have felt, perhaps, a peculiarly strong abhorrence of this vice, for I cannot give it a softer name, from an affecting example of its consequences which fell early under my own observation. A gentleman whom I knew, of a very amiable but unhappily too yielding character, formed a friendship with an individual whose cleverness and wit were his sole recommendations. His chief inducements to form this acquaintance were, I fear, the amusement he expected from this weakness of poor Mr. Stapleton, and they seldom met in company without his finding some occasion to expose this defect. He once invited him to spend

a few days at his house, with some other gentlemen, not more scrupulous than himself in sacrificing a friend to a jest, and to make Mr. Stapleton change his plans was the standing diversion. There was one point, however, in which he appeared provokingly firm—in adhering, notwithstanding their most pressing solicitations, to the day he had fixed for his departure. They discovered that he intended to visit the lady to whom he was on the eve of being married, and the knowledge of this only excited their efforts the more, as the triumph would be greater. Very opportunely for their scheme, an invitation was received to dine on that day with a neighbouring gentleman who had a very fine collection of paintings, in which Mr. Stapleton was a connoisseur. This overcame his firmness, and he agreed to the detention. Just, however, as they were about to set out for their friend's house, a letter arrived from the lady, stating that she was not well; and Mr. Stapleton resolved to pursue his original intention, but was at length persuaded, to call, at least,' on their intended host, and make his own apology, as it would be very little out of his way. To this he consented, and dinner was so soon announced, that he was induced to partake, ashe must dine somewhere.' On the removal of the cloth, he took leave, and his friend attended him to his horse with some chagrin, for he had ventured, even after the receipt of the letter, to make a bet that he would still keep him the day. At this critical moment a heavy shower enabled him again to bring back Mr. S. to the dining-room, only for a few minutes;' and the

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host politely proposed to employ the interval in an examination of his finest pictures, that he might avail himself of the opinion of so good a judge.' This was an unintentional but most powerful aid to the conspiracy, and the paintings insensibly stole time away, until it was clearly too late for him to reach his destination that night; and he reluctantly, and not without reproaching himself and his friend, consented to remain till day-break the next morning. Even before this he started, pressed forward with all possible speed, dissatisfaction with himself producing an undefinable foreboding. When he got into the vicinity of the lady's residence, he met a poor man who he knew was one of the labourers, and inquired if the family were well. 'Then, you do not know, Sir,' he replied, 'what has happened-Miss died this morning!' The poor man caught Mr. Stapleton in his arms as he fell from his horse in a fainting fit. His distress was still farther aggravated when he heard how anxious his departed friend had been for his arrival, and that his delay, after she was sure he must have received her letter, gave birth to suspicions of diminished affection which seemed to embitter her last moments. Mr. S. was so deeply affected that he remained long in a state of melancholy, during which time his false friend paid him a visit; and when he thus became spectator of the ruin he had made,' his hard and selfish nature was touched with remorse as well as fear; for Mr. Stapleton had, in the mean time, heard the particulars of the cruel joke of which he had been the victim, and, thrown by this