indecorous and wrong ever to entertain such a sentiment, who will listen to the first fond tale, and will give away her heart to the first bold bidder, and who will fancy that there can be nothing so interesting and delightful as a descent on a rope ladder, or a flight to the Tweed. Or if she is so credulous and so docile as to believe and follow her instructors, how certain are they to render her unhappy! They will lead her to take the most important step in life with the same indifference, and for the same reasons, as she would accept a partner or conclude a bargain; and she will then have to experience all the bitterness, and be exposed to all the dangers of a life without sympathy, and of an union without affection. And why deprive life of its softest charm, and woman of her loveliest attraction? Is there any sentiment so sweet as that which unites those who virtuously and truly love; which identifies their hopes, their joys, their prospects; which inspires the weaker with affiance, the stronger with sympathy; which becomes more pure, more disinterested, more intense, the longer it is experienced; and which, looking beyond the narrow span of this earthly existence, longs for its renewal in a brighter world? And is there any thing which can compensate for the want of such a sentiment in woman? She may amuse, or dazzle, or look pretty; she may show off well in a drawing-room, and gratify for a while the vanity that selected her; but her brilliancy cannot compensate for her indifference: nor can she inspire an exalted sentiment, who is herself incapable of feeling it. What but love can dictate the amenities so essential to domestic happiness,can excuse mutual faults, can drive away dullness, and give interest to duty, can lighten every burden, and enhance every pleasure, can sweeten every thing bitter, and render more grateful every thing sweet? Love is, indeed, the golden thread which imparts richness and value to the coarsest woof,-and happier, far happier are they, who, with love in their hearts, encounter many a shock, and cope with many a struggle, than they who, soured by mutual disesteem, find even their luxurious indolence fatiguing, and their costly pleasures disappointing and tasteless. It were well that young women should feel that affection is a thing too precious to be thrown away, and too serious to be trifled with. They may, and probably they will, love; and, if the object be worthy of their regard, the more deep and sincere the sentiment, the more likely it is to make them happy.-Mrs. Sandford. THE VIRGIN MARY'S EVENING SONG. CHILD of beauty, brightness, power! Sleep, though rude thy chamber round, Child of mystery and might, Wake my heart's foreboding fears. Child of high and holy love, Dreams from which thou would'st not wake! Softer than a mother's sigh? Child of heaven! a lowlier lay, Thus to slumber on my heart; Yet, while thus our arms entwine, J. ON FEMALE EDUCATION. The subject of education has been so frequently discussed, that little novelty can be expected. A celebrated divine has proposed, that even infants should receive moral and religious impressions; that useful learning should be more attended to than the parade of ornamental erudition; and that, in the education of females, the art of pleasing, not by personal allurements, but by good sense and cheerfulness, should be diligently inculcated. Referring to music, dancing, and drawing, he says, "They are letters of recommendation, and dispose us at first sight to think well of the possessor; but their influence extends no farther: unless they are accompanied by higher attainments, they produce neither esteem nor love. The most useful, and in my judgment, the most bewitching accomplishment a lady can possess, is the only one which by common consent is left entirely to chance. Conversational talent is really essential, for it is wanted almost every hour of the day, and is not the less pleasing because it makes no pretensions. Beauty itself is not half so engaging as a soft and pleasing manner of speaking in a young woman, because it always indicates a gentle and amiable disposition; and where it is combined with a beautiful person and a moderate share of intellect, it is absolutely irresistible. Strange as it may appear, it is frequently found by those who seek not for it, and is generally missed by those who wish to find it. Whether parents wish to make their children happy or highly accomplished, they must lay the same foundation; they must endeavour to make them good. Root out of their nature every thought that rests in selfish gratifications, and let their happiness consist in pleasing God, and contributing to the happiness of their fellow-creatures; do this, and you will make them cheerful, animated, and happy; you will heighten their charms if they should be beautiful, and throw a veil over their bodily deformities, if they should be otherwise. You will endow them with the highest and best of all accomplishments-the power of making all men pleased with them, and best fit them to distinguish themselves in the world by their talents, by giving them the power of keeping their thoughts under the control of their reason. FEMALE EDUCATION IN THE REIGN OF CHARLES THE SECOND. It might seem that the accomplishments, and the various modes of occupying time, universally taught to our young women now, would have been more usefully and necessarily bestowed at a period when the whole female sex lived so much more in seclusion, both from the interruptions and from the improvement arising from worldly society. Certain it is, that, generally speaking, they possessed few of the means of self-amusement, now in the hands of almost all the world. Music was cultivated by none excepting those whose strong natural taste and talent for it, made them overcome all obstacles in its pursuit. Drawing, or any taste for the fine arts, seems never to have been thought of, either as an employment of the hands, or a cultivation of the mind; although such a taste is, perhaps, the more peculiarly desirable for woman, because it furnishes a source of conversation free from scandal, and from all idle and vulgar enquiries into the affairs of others. No woman, really possessing such a taste, will ever be a gossip. Reading, except for some express purpose, was hardly esteemed an amusement among the young men of the world, far less among the young women. The romances of the day, unlike the modern furniture of a circulating library, were serious voluminous works, whose perusal was scarcely undertaken except by those who had a turn for study and solitary occupations in the long leisure of a country life. The divine poetry of Milton (as has been justly observed by a modern critic) was little celebrated, not from an absence of taste, but from a paucity of readers. Letter-writing, according to modern habits, was practised for many years at this period. In spite, therefore, of the numberless tapestry, chairs, carpets, beds and hangings, now for the most part discarded in rags from the garrets of their granddaughters, an unsatisfied curiosity yet remains as to the amusements of the younger women, whose fortune and rank elevated them above the common every-day household cares of existence. The private letters of the times, yet preserved, for the very reasons above mentioned, furnish us with little information. Those that are not written expressly on some family business, evince none of the ease in composition, so necessary for familiar details. They all betray a great ignorance of the language, of its grammar and its spelling, and often, a want of facility in the mechanical part of writing, which proves how little it was practised. Whatever may be said respecting the march of intellect, it must readily be admitted that the present system forms a glorious contrast with that which is described above. An Eng EDUCATION OF ENGLISH FEMALES OF RANK. lish young lady at sixteen or seventeen years of age, sometimes sooner, goes from a boarding school into the world-(you know what a boarding school is;) the governess with whom she has lived ever since her childhood (except during the holidays) restores her to her parents, who, frequently the same day, introduce her to their friends, of whom she knows a little by a few cold caresses she has received from them in her mamma's drawing-room, when at home for the holidays, before being brought out. She knows very well how to conduct herself at church, repeat her prayers, and note down the heads of the sermon. She has a hundred ways of recommending herself to the world for her devotion to the religion she professes-her own conscience, and the patroness of the Bible Society to which she belongs. She has read, at least once, all the popular novels; she knows a number of extraordinary tricks which lords and ladies play in the fashionable world; she is ignorant of none of those little flirtations with which the imagination and judgment of girls are exercised; she can paint flowers, and adorn chimneypieces with straw and gilt paper, and other nick-knacks, as elegantly as a supplier to one of the bazaars. Perhaps she also knows how to embroider a flower on muslin in worsted or satin stitch, to work en appliquée, making bead-bracelets, and even gentlemen's watch-guards. She has been taught in the dancing room how to walk a quadrille, and in the coach-house how to step into a carriage; gives admirable stares, and inimitable nods. Lastly, if she is found to have no taste or talents for music, the singing-master must bestow the more pains in teaching her to sol-fa, and she will scream most confidently little opera airs, and play long concertos. Think, madam, how wonderful are the knowledge and acquirements of a young English lady of rank who has been fashionably educated! The mother exults in introducing a daughter so well tutored to play her character-affirms she is all talent, beauty, and elegancecompletely finished-an absolute phoenix. The young lady, enriched with so many perfections, finds herself the leader of a numerous and flattering set of acquaintance—is presented at Almack's goes to every party-devotes herself to fashionand is advised by her mamma to become the bride of the most eligible man that offers before the close of the season. THE GOVERNESS. There is no class of people I pity so much as those unhappy creatures called Governesses, who, equally removed from those above and below them, hold little communion with any human being. A line of demarcation appears to be drawn between them and the rest of their species. They seem to exist but for others, since their own feelings go for nothing their best days are destined to be spent in servitude, their declining ones most probably in want and misery! and yet to these unfortunate beings do we commit the most sacred of duties. To these persons, whom we consider as unfit for our own society, we entrust the sole care of our offspring; that child who is the centre of all our hopes, the rallying point of all our wishes, for whom we live and for whom we would die, is given up to the sole charge of her whose mere presence in our drawing-room would be considered as the height of intrusion. Strange inconsistency! that those whom we deem unfit for our own society we should, nevertheless, consider proper for that of our children, at that ductile period of existence when the mind takes its colour from what surrounds it. These reflections have arisen from a circumstance which has just occurred within the limits of my acquaintance. A gentleman, whose fortune had been acquired by trade, bought a domain in the neighbourhood of the village of Tinholit; and, had his an_ cestors been in possession of the estate as long as those of the person from whom he purchased it, Mr. Grubly could not hav been prouder of the dignity attached to being lord of the manor I pardon him for that weakness; something must be conceded to the novelty of his situation, and to the agreeable contrast be D |