• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Dedication
 Preface
 Table of Contents
 The mistake of a lifetime
 The fountain of life unsealed
 Influence
 The true sphere of woman
 Loveliness of spirit
 Self-reliance
 The secret springs of self-rel...
 Of self-culture
 The young lady at home
 The young lady from home
 Courtship and marriage






Group Title: young lady's counsellor, or, Outlines and illustrations of the sphere, the duties and the danger of young women
Title: The young lady's counsellor, or, Outlines and illustrations of the sphere, the duties and the danger of young women
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Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00058385/00001
 Material Information
Title: The young lady's counsellor, or, Outlines and illustrations of the sphere, the duties and the danger of young women
Physical Description: Book
Creator: Wise, Daniel,
Publisher: Carlton & Phillips,
Copyright Date: 1853
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00058385
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: alj0440 - LTUF
002239902 - AlephBibNum

Table of Contents
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Half Title
        Half Title
    Title Page
        Page i
        Page ii
    Dedication
        Page iii
        Page iv
    Preface
        Page v
        Page vi
    Table of Contents
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
    The mistake of a lifetime
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
    The fountain of life unsealed
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
    Influence
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
    The true sphere of woman
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
    Loveliness of spirit
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
    Self-reliance
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
    The secret springs of self-reliance
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
    Of self-culture
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
    The young lady at home
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
    The young lady from home
        Page 215
        Page 216
        Page 217
        Page 218
        Page 219
        Page 220
        Page 221
        Page 222
        Page 223
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
        Page 227
        Page 228
        Page 229
        Page 230
    Courtship and marriage
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
        Page 235
        Page 236
        Page 237
        Page 238
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
        Page 247
        Page 248
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
Full Text


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OUTLINES AND ILLUSTRATIONS

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in tnmu n- m ip in wun

or

FOUNG WOMEN..


DdNED TO B A OGiUB TO TRUO UAIPPmB IN Tjr' .
I.WI, AND TO OLOk$ IN T'r LE WmHIsR 1 To CO.L

BY REV. DANIEL WIS, A. M.,
Limm w IK raoA maI'I oomSnsb," UIAm
M ," "fu or 1 ,"' 9WI S eO W1
-- uAIo," &O. o.


SLSfVNTH-DITION.

Nete-odc:
PUISHilED BY CARLTON & PHIILIP8,
100 Mulberry-.troet.
1863. .

,


.





YOUNG LADrS COUnKelfS;
**


7'



































COPYRIOHT SECUUXD.


































THE TOUNG WOMEN OF AMERICA

glis un I

Is 3susum, im Fan m" %Frmm..

by Tools 13325 5330333 D AND WRLL.WI3U3,

DANIEL WISS




















A self govened nation m t be both intelligent and
religious; for if a principle bf moral restramt dwells


straining force. Society must sink into a state of
anarchy, from which a relentless despotism will le 6
PREFACE.


Ti. important. of female culture cannot be too




highly estimatedess it peeelsy in the msl force of t, wherenti-
our insti of dution. depend on the virtue ofa topeople.
spend for the creation and must be both intelligent and
religious; for if a principle bf moral, restraint dwells



not in the breast of a map, in the eeming millions opera
in society, without e terror of some epulpiternal, o
straining force. Society must sink into a state e .



educational appliances rufelentless to accomplish this
evolved, unless it feels the moral force of the senti- .*"
ment of duty. And on what agency are we to de-
pend for the creain and cultivation of this mighty
conservative idea of DUTY, in the teeming millions of
our future population? Are our pulpits and ouw
educational appliances sufficient to accomplish this
great work I' Nay! That they are indispensable
and potent instrumentalities, that they cannot be
too highly appreciated earnestly supported, is
freely admitted; but tsiW~ Pown BBum D Ti
SCHooL-aOOM AD TH1 OcmOU which is capable of
neutralizing the efforts of both. Maternal influence,







* PRUBACK.


acting on'the infant mind in its first stage of impress-
ibility, stamps an almost ineffaceable image of good
or evil upon it, long before it pan be made to feel the
power of the teacher or the minister. Hence the
necessity of multiplied, earnet endeavors to promote
the growth of the loftiest and hoist traits* of mind
and heart, in the young women who are destined to
be the mothers of a succeeding generation, and, con-
sequently, to exert that fearful influence, which,
more than all others, will determine its character.
This book is an humble but" earnest effort, to sthnu-
late and direct the growth of female mind, and there-
by to fit it for the fulfilment of its high earthly mis-
sion, and for felicity in the world of spirits. If God
will be pleased to make it d dew-drop of love, beauty,
and fertility iq the spirits of some of the daughters
of our land, the highest ambition of the author will
be satisfied.
D. W.
ELsrmix ar PiAoeA, )
Nsw BiDMoD, Aug. 1861.)












r













'w,



40N-TENTS.



CHAPTER I.
T- IIB iEA1B 0 A =1R11M
ra eath-blI of a royal lady-1 spetacle of sadne --The miake
of br liftme A fear xpressed- An appeal to the redlir' view
of lif Her mistakl- The alchemit HIs home described- His
theory and labor His fate- Coeempt for hi folly A similar
folly described -Voice ( revelatlon and eperlea P-eetel
extract-A vital question proped -A poet's aser-The a-wen
of Inspiration Belatio of the visible world to the mind Qsas
tion from Schiller--BN andl fowrsn-The laborator of bU-A
post on the Alpe- BU tlfil deedption of an Ali*natornm-P- r.
of the mindover nature-The mind Indepedent of ntald vl-
sik maiden Her poverty, springs and bl The me erd.--
Mlenble mind In places of please The mind Ita4 haves or
hell Up*latble truth--The deplsl hmb-qi lok oft r--
Danger of morning truth-A happy esape,. ...... .. .18


CHAPTER II.
UD 1OUUTAIN 01 LM WI a
somrmH or ur inauh
The Alplne fir - applnes most be broult Into the hern-Pt-
ture of a oltruistlg to iu oin resources laso feto the lip of
Jess -'The eaMrl ofllvinr bile GedieM of Gr elia mtelg
-A fhmlo dei*bed A ul enigu--ltse sltlon--The
evil ofUlh-new to view t elmly- Picture by a Germwmar
-lUloeU of woman's lot rendens v n necessary -4pinion of
the Dlch of Ne tl -Th- e *r jy of a relilotu mld--The
s ern hmes of tbh peolr gU's0 leliglom riders woman







8 cONTraNTS.


independent of ot d circumstance The ancient Christian, with
hi arm of lthnd love-Quotation fom Vaughn-The piano-
Its whree-Thatuer-The mind out of tun-- Religion necessary
to Impart hi womanly qualltls-Schller's Queen of Spain-False
wels-- fe llkantural power, . . . . . . 33


CHAPTER III.
niuma.
The vain request Inuence eternal- What influence is We must
ert influence The cathedral and its mystic organ -The choice -
The dread alternative-An old English catle- Judith and
her influence-Incredulity of the reder semoved-Woman's influ-
ence peculiar- Mothers of Augusti, Wuhington, Oberlin and Wee
ley Their influence on the character of their eons -The broken
dyke The heroic boy- His motive esponslbllty of a young
lady's position The weed on the farm Effect of consecrated influ-
eoe Adhesion of plate-lass Inlrbililty Of induence The
punctured eye- Unconscious Infuence of a sister Distance be-
tween an act and its fnal consequnces- The lost arrow found-Be-
membered music-The praying mother -Her death Apparent
death of her infleeo-- Its hrvt- Buchanan Judson Scott-
Legh Richmood- Rev. J. Newton Louisa of Savoy an example
of evil Influence A fncy Influence not the result of wealth and
station-The Syrian deael--The eveWi party Idle wsha -
nultofae arless word As appeal in fvor of religion, ..... 86


CHAPTER IV.

TrS TIUa PMBPn or woxU.
Jan of Are and Hannah More -Their deeds Repnance to former
Love for the latter Thee feeling Instinctiv and universal -
Queen liabeth -Martha Glar- Jael-Volumnlb-md Virgila -
Lady Jan* Grey--Qum Victoria--A law of the lmid- Claims set
up for women Protest of women nature S e ined by the Gos-
pal -Christ' truth made a Mary,torca, a Lyda- Martyrs Did
notLcb(a the sphere of amen-The lady's surprise-The pi-
tor'e anser-A great truth-Divesty at sphere not Inferiority
of employment Woman's opa dAl ribed a Ship at se The
*








O igs. *


lentmy pnl--The bad blrd-F-ltd COla e l t weaultn
omaa aI appolated spbr-John Ad-ah id VBM-J. Q.
Adum' tribute to his mother-Kant-P u -'tlg --Wemn's
mito gratifying to ambition Pleuan o1thr mrU l W hinf
ton and hbi maher at a feeul ne -Relgln m eedeN a y
lady rher work,. ............ ....... .. .


CHAPTER V.

ZLOVTBIIM 01 SP11T.
Character ofLucy A lovely spirit the central rtar in female ehacuter
-Woman's seepi and sword--IM strength One i maid of
Loth& Lovelines the ofpri of high qualities Thi manie -
Ti little girl--The proved OIt- Vitory of love over madms--
The markwoman and her idiot boy-The death chamber--Love
and idioy- The abbey- Casotte and his daughtr--A thrilling
acne Love urbduing the spirit of asau ne An Infernce-- The
argument appilew--ornlls and the Oracchl-The Lmm wmda
their marble tatuw A gteat truth-- ow lovelies wine Its tri-
umphe -William Wirt to his daughter- Annbtte and Frederiek-
The happy discovery-Calu Mariuand5hel Gallic soldisr--l tal
imptenionsu-- Itd muet peoemsie qualitiee It Imprite athr
,E- Eflct of seeking lovely spiritl-The twin chlBren --f=mpahy,
--xtnet from Schiller-foeu' question to Philip--L vtellne
not natural in wan, net atttaineblI hI u n etrenth Job' coo-
femlon PNul'p experience -- Divine MP neiry to mIua love
lIlDm, . 1. .
un,... .....................o.. .10


CHAPTER VI. *


The wla huo -- t-The discovered eimore-The enchuetma t of
got- The *i rock-The hunter's death-Pity for his fte-A
kinded folly --he Itre macrficd to the present --A Are duty -
kaes Ir the Iergencle of life -The Ivy and the oak-- A disred.
Cited aytalg-- Mae Lmelti".-Pla tors of Marle Antolelte--
Monatal Illuratlm n of the uncerwsla of belp -The ntate
ppied -indepeadd on the qMMlaie of marriage e seem by se
nel*nae- arry M Ar a .it-Superior portion of a mf



1, .











depedet womra --Korvale's rmasee-Advadne nto 116 bring
chau--ka necessity for elfnllance-A Igrnt At- allen
womea--ili of povery on their *Ml- Self-relUace might bave
aved thcrm-v ict ote lf-nrlaac in wom on o bserves--T two
queem- Mare Antolnette's llum ln a crial e- Qum bsther's so
c a a great expncy Cause of Marlek' fAlu Of EOhe's
eoem--mements of self-relance,. . . . . . . .


CHAPTER VII.


The emir*' daughter Her lore Her pumlt and it scess Her
folly Bsh self-rellance described --True ~re oe A delsded
mind one of Its springs Example of Plmorr COucrtlon to the
Ide of duty Eflct on the feeling In vi ra dn-ger- llustra
by Empress Joephine's afdction for Napoleon- strict fLom Joann
Bill 06urge a spring of self-rllance The mother of Jonathan
Harrington-Neclity of courag-Ue of In woman-Count
Albert and his noble wife-Ayza the saltaM--PoestI extrct-
Learning how to suppet self-Benry Laren to his daghters-
Madame de eolis Education a ma of support till I needle-
mat-- IIe in a factoryeonseed Labor an degrad-in- Madam
SBolan-i ar Dwight- Trt in God-P ul at the Roman trl-
b nIal, . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


CHAtTER VIII.


Ethwald's chrah,3 e- Sameon,. of human ihear -bd of good and
Ill-- Caftul a condition of growth -Sculptfne In a umm Rela-
Lion of kill and beauty DiWerlty a fmal'charactr- Vain women
Artful, selAmh, malicious wtlfen Sanderen Model women -
The difference xplaned 8elfulture rged EnutO ed extract
from De Monfort The embrodery pattern Cor im necesary
-Mutual relations of mind and body -Health e carsl r -
'ntllectual culture Reading fr pleurn Ne k-Their reletlon
to pleasure and to chater- -Tir f rsMlog s tdndecy Obje of
readlng- How to fnd ph In la eading- The 9le-Bow to rad
It-Moral culture -A Ah Janelsa--Mleses U*a h-
A comparison Oonstaaslene I mlmee Tbe sInking
^i(T *Lfc ,







.4eamsmn 11


bost- The runaway honses-As-ei-oer urn- U- r man- *
teal-- Dre ad musrems e ia their ralton a elam-The
ly and ber lost pub-A leon on IaurovIui Mstta-
SeIf-rproach-Divlne aids-PreF nmomBMment M .... i.


CHAPTER IX.
THB TOUTe LAST AT BOrn.
Tullla- Her unwomanly and unfllal charater- ResBmbare to her
chacter-- Beauty of f11il jlore-A sce of uflkrlg-A dauh-
tor's Mcrfe--er eward-De SBombrul's daughter. and the glass
of bod- How to maifhet 1fili asfction-God's approval of filil
love Slterly ated --l It uence on the plessr of bome -
eow tobe exhUted- Influence on a brother -Jane de MNohrt's
ove The hotnalturist and hli young trees Home social
snrsery-Beasutyof hoame- Its adaptasos to is for t n IA-
Ooldd see-- Golden harvesTU-s--Sev--Plesuth lctlem-
A brlMgh helag m, ................... ..


CHAPTER X.

o.
Irat leons of iMe accurmt-- MoonIt aidseap-- LMoaoQdr uzp-
rice- The school- Sl1beukas sad his w -t- bTw a of chael
education I seriousnessM abould beenrloly t -rea- d of
appreclating its alms-The dull bolar oragsd-J-nny LliA '
pereeverace and trflmh-Scbhl man Ill many schol
--Source @o 4ood m nner-DBnolence a duty -- h oricul
ascetlc-The glass of water-The wd-p-fite sad associated
benevolema-The Sabbath hool-Tracts i-- itn the nick-
Pseudo reformers to be avo ded-Tralintg n dangerous- Mio
-A cauIn,. .. ...... .................. .. .. ..


CHAPTER XI.

comzu An as K saAe.
The two em---T divided heighO -4mmag of marrige--Mal
notions f maNa- M le eaMl--e-arrinae perent-De-.li











Mie-Br st a.ei Imapepr-- agie 8l ibettr L the abd ma
drsp--lam dEt mlmsemd*e w-What Wmast al-B- l oa of
saeds toalw j mrrip-Ijur idet-Nod ia Mlewm
tefbve'-- sftclou eoeutrdleby r eso- OurUtp- IUs objct
-A lov e chancter to be studld-A vital test- Paeiloa khds th
yeM dkray-The military chiftali en hralld by It-P- lon's
aImlnlnd -A young lady's love her greatest treurn-Poeical
utract-A reuon for caution in bomrnhip--trgers-Hew to
guard thu--Villains may b detected-- Etact from Colelds--
From As Cook Meaul and moal purity a womms armor-A
chaste woman described-The characters re quisite In a suaitr -
Self-denall- Enrgy Cultlvation Iandst Ecoonv Biev-
olence Must no be a pond ma-Nor a elow Nor a bp--Nor
deormed- Sholk'b e rreligious- ae( pinag pereats- F
momere--Myran's lopemeat- Her msliqMea MgMrl-
the itimecle ofcourtehp-No hMte to Wgeda-Hm m Mr lg
Im h-b- n0eludia remUaks,.. ............ .l




-

*. V
*



YOUNG LABY'S COUNSEL tR.


CHAPTER L

SL' aJ Ama
A

ILL the light-hearted mhon,
whose Jughingq yes glance at
t~e Jineb, permit her attentiZi *
to rest a moment or two upon the.
sketch I am about to pencil r alit, .
it may be of a mre sadd and sote-
br iurthan the biht images usua*B
floadng before -hgr imagination. Be-
hold, then, a one pu~t lay strug-
g.linf with the agonies life's last hors !
VSp is rich in gold and diamoaids, in
Spalacest aa s. the blast of her war-timnpet.
can ummq^ apdreons ofamed men to the Abl.
Her woi( seommand can cov* the ees with lab


., .. ",


*






14 MU lje LADY'S SOVM3LO&


white ails of one of the proudest navies of the
globe. I red-cross banner oats in. pride from
many p." castled crag," and over

"A ld of beaty
SFondled by the celing sea."

Yet is the face of this queenly, sufera deadly
pale; her eyes are wandering aoda des; and her
expressive features indicate ex
Legions of sad remembrances are i rough
her mind, terrible as a phantom army t fears.
A mitred prelate stands beside her royal couch,
vainly endeavoring, by his devotions, to soothe her
ruffled spirit, and fit it for its passage to the veiled
world beyond. Vain attempt! Every look of Eng-
land's royal mistress, the great EIz.taiLs, that once
haughty daughter of the Tudors, seem to say:
"Gladly would I surrender pomp, power, and empire,
feo the sweet innocency of childhood; tr

'A consience free lonm la I

And thus, with her sprit tses md .d of


. 1 *
dot r*s s

'~"-*Mf:




r.


Tm 3m334 or A ilh 16

earthly throu, mad stands undistinidW amidst a
crowd of spirits, a trembling subject at th bpr of dke
King of kings!
This is a spectacle of sadness. Such orrow, in
such a mind, at such an hour, was very pOWl to
endure.. Nevertheless, it was only the necessary
sequenao of a p" and fatal mistake which had
i the l queen. What was that mis-
take I N relied upon things taernal to Aer.
sdf for s zn and content! She had looked to
her crown, her kingdom, her friends, as springs from
which streams of pleasure were to flow into her soul
SShe had dreamed of attaining happiness by levying
contributions upon the vast array of outward aid
visible objects which the -Providence of God bad
placed within her reach. Vain expectation! Illusive
dream! it made her life turbulent and uneasy: and
her death painful and unsatisfactory. She had obvi-
ously mistaken the false for the true, te evil for
the goa Failing to discern the true "fowstars of
liWi4 sq ," she livd and died in the vain attempt
to qMDt the mighty thirst d her undying spirit

? ,
; *. ,
S', .
S.






16 Tnl IOS LAM,' COUE3zLWI.


at "cisterns," which, though of imposing magnifi-
eenee and peerless splendor, nevertheless "hld no
water!"
I am seriously inclined to fear that the young
lady to whom I now write is entering the great
temple of life under the guidance of this same fatal
mistake. Is it not so, my reader ? Are you not look-
ing out upon the thousand gay things of life with he
expectation of deriving your choicest pleasure from
their possession Is not life vocal to youbas with
alluring sounds of invitation to partake of its delights
and be happy And do you not listen to those
voices with pleasing rapture, and fancy how com-
pletely blessed you should be, if wealth to purchase
admission to the halls of gayety and fashion were
yours If you were the "belle" of the ball-room,
the fascination of the soiree, the "admired of all
admirers" at Newport or Saratoga, the betrothed of
some noble-minded lover, or the wife of.*toe doting
husband, then, you imayi, your heart wou throb
with genuine and substantial blies. A *sin
which, b its r# asaness, now keeps you Ak osn
*-

4bA






n MwSAurTI orA LW 17

mental repose, would then, you f&aq,be atin d:
that sense of soul-emptiness of which' yp are o
pamfully conscious would be removed, and j9u be
the delighted posessor of genuine bliss on earth.
Thee things being so, are you not selfea-oicted
of the same error whose disastrous consequences you
jusr now oeheld in my-picture of the royal Elia-
be& That fatal mistake, of looking wholly to
things external to hemsif for happiness, which embit-
tered her Jife and robbed her death-bed of al true
comfort, is already beguiling you. That mistake
must be corrected, or you will also live unblessd,
and die uncomforted.
Let us enter, at leas* in fancy, you anciot
house, whose high-peaked roofs and gble eows
proclaim it a relic of the "days that as no more."
Within, it is desolate and loWely. A venmabls lady
of the olden time is housekeeper; and a girl of rude
manners, bi robust frame, is her servant. Let m
ascend these rickety stairsrmd introduce ourselves
to the oaer of'this antiquated pile. Here is hi
tpoo.) t s a laboratory, containing, as you may e,

o.







is Tug me LAM' COUNKLLsM .


t vast array of bottles filled with chemicals, and
pile of musty folios. Bending over his alembic
with fied attention, behold the philosopher himself,
wrapped in the folds of a huge dressing-gown, and a
high study-cap upon his head. Gray ringlets steal
down upon his shoulders. His studious face is
covered with deep wrinkles; for sixty years he has
steadily experimented by day and dreamed at night,
in the vain hope of wringing from nature a mighty
secret. Profoundly, and with unwearied patience, he
has interrogated nature, and bent over that alembic
and its mysterious mixtures, until the manly vigor
of previous years has given way to the decrepitude
of trembling age. Still he toils and will toil on,
until he falls, a martyr to his theory, into the dreary
grave. And for what? you inquire. Lady! he
is an alchemist. He seeks the philosopher's stone
by which all baser metals are to be transmuted into
gold; and the elixir of life, by which all diseases are
to be cured, and our mace ended with eternal
youth!
Philosopher's stone, inded! Elixir of life




9M .


=a marA OP A. uloB 19

What nonsense! That old alchemist, o all his
philosophical learning, must be sadly lacking in coe
mon sense!" you vehemently exclaim, your poed
brow and flashing eyes expressing also the earnest-
ness of your indignation at his folly.
But why should you, young madam; be so incensed
against that harmless old alchemist, while you are
guilty of a folly equally obvious, but infinitely more
serious in its consequences? Why is that theorist
a fool Simply because he seeks an obvious impossi-
blity: he pursues a dream, -he grasps a shadow!
You do the same; for have I not convicted yoe, on
the testimony of your own consciousness, of seeking
to extract true happiness from the external world
alone I With equal discretion might y search
after the elixir of life, or the philosopher'estone. For
how can perishing matter satisfy imperiahabs mih ,
Can a mind like yours, endowed with cravings after
the Divine, the infinite, and the immortal, besatii
with the Smite, the created, the ever-cn i visible
world Aever! It is impossible, in te'nature f
thilng.. And a mind unsatisfied is a mind unhalpy.






s0 Tim ToX hs coIUNIM.

Listen tethe ad song of a poet, who dipped his per
in an inkhorn filled with tears of bitter disappoint-
meat, and, writing from his own history, said:

As charm on charm unwlids
Which robed our idols, and we see too ure
Nor worth nor beauty dwells from out the mind's
Ideal shape of such: yet still it binds
The fatal spell, and still it draws us on,
Reaping the whirlwind from the oft-sown winds
The stubborn heart, its alchemy began,
Seems ever near the prize-wealthiest when most undone."

There never was a mind, since the world began,
which would not have sadly responded to the truth
of these lines, after a thorough trial of the power f
the external world to bless the heart. And to uni-
versal experience is superadded the emphatic declar-
ation of Jehovah, who has written, with his own
fingers, on the arch which spans the gmat eoince
to real life, this significant inquiry, Wherefore do
yu spend money for that which is not bred? anmd
your labor for that uc sfieth not? "
Pause, young laly, in presence of this qes-
tion, and this universal experience! Permit yur





'1-:o .qo ..
I= uSTAK fil A. +Jtl. 1

mind to reflect gravely on the imminent Mib 'not to
my daring recklessness, of venturing into a se whoe
every previous voyager has wreahed his bark,.ad
where so many have perished. Let the combined
voices of God and man settle the question for you,
without making the dangerous trial yourself. Receive
it as a mental caviction, that, although external
objects may please for a moment, as toys amuse
children,-although, in their appropriate uses, they
may swell the fountain of the mind's joy,- yet they
ar necessarily and immutably unfitted to be its
portion.
d you, my dear reader, concur with me in
this opinion, you will have taken the first step
toward escaping from the fatal mistake which spoiled
the life of the royal Elizabeth.
"Prom whence, then, am I to die true hap
pines? If it is so fatal to look for it to things
sithot myself, whither shall I look?" you very
properly and eagerly inquire.
will .init a human and a Divine teacher to
solvyoi*proln m. The former is a poet. Hesays:







2S TU tOUto LADY's COUNSrIuB.


The ae, in this loud stormy tide
Of human care and crime,
With whom the mnelodies abide
Of the everlasting chime;
Who carry music in their hear.
Through dusky lane and wrangling mart
Plying their daily task with busier feet,
Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat."

The latter, speaking under heavealy inspiration,
writes that "a good msn shall be satisfied from
hisuelf." Both passages teach that the sourea4f
genuine pleasure are to be sought within te mind
itdf: that the rich repose enjoyed by a happy mand
originates from something dwelling withitf:
that happiness does n flow in from the outer woAd,
but springs up, unseen by others, within the Imytei-
ons sanctuary of the soul: and that the power of visi-
ble things to swell the tide of harmony in the mind
depends upon the mind itself. The everlasting
chime of melody, which may charm the ear of her
who listens aright to the voices of the visible world,
originates in the soul of the listener. Whogo would
draw a concord of sweet sounds" from the world
without, must carry music in her hart; just ard

S .
P '*
^







a mruA or a rD1. WB

made, who sits bifp the ricblj 4 d l eet,
must fit have the mm ical ideAiaa bWei dhe
can call forth Soods of melody from it Mbellt
keys.
As Sam.rn justly inquires,

"Doth the huImeny
In the w lamte-tri beloh
To the purhaer, who, dull of r, doth keep
The instrument ? True she hath bought the rigW
STo strike t into frgments- yet art
To wake its silvery tones, and melt with blss
SOtthrillU sog I Truth for the wis exists,
Ad beauty for the feeling hart."

m flower blooms brightly, and exhale odoefir
as peifune to myriads of insects; but the industri
os bee, taught by its curious instinct, alone extacts
and stos away its delicious sweets. So, though
the earth contains ten thousand flower, whose bloom
may delight the slM, and whose odor may ravish
the hart, yet those alone whose minds are fitly ds-
posed ca enjoy the luxury. Outward things an
to miad just what the mind is to itself. If th
mil belts om hearve, then is earth its Eden; hat




4 -.

34 Tl y7ouN r*iy's cowrnstUx.

if it be it own hell, then the things and objects i
life instruments of vexation and of torture.
WIAris the mind itself, therefore, the elixir of life
must be produced. The human bosom is the little
chamber in which, as in a laboratory, bliss or woe
is created. There we must study the occult art of
extracting honey from the world's flowers, music
from its motions, and enjoyment from its relations.
There we must obtain strength to subdue it.to our
service. There we must acquire the alchemy of
transmuting its poisons into nutritious sweets. There
must we look,' and there find, if we find it at all,
the fountain of a joyous life-of all true pleasure.
The kingdom of God is wIT9r You," said the Lod
Jesus; and so of a happy life,-its springs are wrrm
Yon.
A lordly poet once stood amidst a fearful storm,
at Right, on the Alps. Nature, in one of ht mote
savage aspects, in one of her most appling ao-
mnts, stood before him. The scene was msfcietly .
dreadful to send the blood back to the stoutest ^eat
and to hush even a courageous mind to mremn
4. t*








,, Noun d A, W O-W^
U* .




vereIe: But thme Meod DI-ot, in S
light, which hoe uipresed in *he tsausirilrp
1 0 Riaht
And stornn a darkas, ye n wd strong, -
Yet lovly in youstrngth, u is the lUght
Of a dak ye in oman I- far along,
From pek to pek, the rattling enp amone,
Leap the live their I -not from oneoe cleo d,
But ery aountaia now hat found a tongue,
Aad Jur uaawemn through her misty shrd,
9eck to the joyus Alps, who call tJker aloud I
*, 0 *
How the lit lake shine a phophori see,
Abd the big min eeme dudol to.the erth I
Ad now gala't Isblai, uam wthbg ,
Of theload il hmke with its matal min *mr,
As Ithey did rJoloer ia yoang eathqush'sbI."

Whence the enthusiastic pleasure, worthy of the
spirit of the stone, which np 4 these veses
Why should this poet revel; as in a-.airy-land of
beaty, over a scene which catued his companions
to trembl 1 Why should the same ccuraen6e pro
doue prc ly opposite effects on the different spec-
tasMOW.Whence the difference? Plainly n dhe
aif d the spectator only. The poet, nurtured
duhWf4h most rugged cenes of nature, and reek

4 t
^-Q f
. ^ *% *




-,



S If40 LAW'S 6eOmum

leo f AI danger had a sol in harm.ooyzh the
wtp, and could enjoy its terror; while othen,
aibtle to perceive the sublime and beaqtifl, through
fear of the terrible which surrounded it, beheld and
trembled. A striking illustration this, you now per-
ceive, of the truth, that things without the mind bless
or curse it only as that mind is predispoed. If
fearful, and alive only to the terrible, it will tremble;
if bold, and seiative to what is sublime and beauti-
ful, it will be delighted
The mind has a similar power to determine the
influence which its condition in social life shall esrt
upon it. The most abject poverty cannot compel it
to be unhappy; the most favorable state in life camo
not insure its pleasure. Upon itself alone depedr'
the power of circumstance to embitter or to chirm.
Let it be at peace with itself, loving the pee and
lovely, living en rational and cheerful bope, and, as
the poet said of a mind animated by hope,-
oe, -th sweet bid, whIl tsa the irses 1,
Let sea be ee the eaml as summe still
Are you in doubt concerning the pohrl d*'




h.










soel, wbil. the deoktion of d
irgn around Id m a move .i4 pi
Sporaying an i4ein 4 4 amthe
ch.d er of a sick:ad sling amidm. .OObe,
as yoti cvoshM threhold, its atterutshomen f all
thda miqU ,o taste ( comfor t. .ow ba its

ulerem oc, btdee M .dsia h1 te
M sci '&ad gokywis No orqik co
"uam "'. ,-1.o bd4, r to
pose. *gcit o ~o., or..d bed, ita.
4owdriwg dspymelai~an shadsmi-isw
a poverty, "'mbep i* sit. sg *i .ut #

to,her supprewsd gream .b-to hjr .Ihit
Her convolsie staut hoer diSt ise alarm U
y. a. "Poor crea tue H6w she safoti" b your
involusry exclamation. But she gipwmo calm,
for the paroysa T over. Now, ma* khe lvely
serenity which steak uMr and ars pob her
Owahm!, Wieti Wat yaditnt spi it wlheam
ab pLwyoeo r How hasaly in the*miuio dof
hAl losslmsymr How rf d ia a blame smrti


*^" '.






* 3l.snms 5r's oosmwas *

madt am4b words which flow from her thin lips!
What agent Jove, what holy submission, what lofty
spiritual ecstasy, she professes! As you listen you
are astonished, and in an inward whisper exclaim,
*What a happy creature!"
Yes, she is happy; for this is no ideal picture, but
a faithful likeness of an actual sufferer. For a
series of years, this dear girl was tormented by vio-
lent convulsions, which, occurring every fw .hour,
dislocated her joints, and caused an unimaginable
amount of physical agony. Yet, through it all, her
unrepining spirit triumphed in God. With heroic
constancy she endured her uneampled sufferings;
and mairtaine an intercourse with God so elevated
and sublime, that her joys were more unspeakable
than her suferings. If her physical lifg was liter
ally full of anguish, her spiritual life was full of
glory! Her "earth was ice," but hw,"soul bad
summer stilL"
In contrast with this painting of strong light and
deep shadow, permit me to place another, as sketched
by the brilliant pen of a peet. It is that of miud


I .





*




tr .hln m,: fra w


"But midtr the three, n la ugry mam u ade,
Lark there no hearts that threb with encre.ala,
SB'ea through the loeest ceremeaf h betrayed 7

To suah the gladneu of the gamesome crowd
Ssoure of waywrd thought d ster disdain
HEow do they loather the laghter idly load,
Andjong to change the robe of rvel for the shrod "

Here you behold persons pt only rejecting what
i pleasurable and joyus in a sene of revelry, bht
actually busy t extracting tture tr s f em t Th
~ a4 in a circle whose splendid gayety is adopted to
bewhih the senses, while jocand lau e a&i mirth-
inspiring music ring in their ear, wit*efir bear
throbbing rith keennt anguish, loathing the spse-
tacle, add blindly longing for the solitude of the

gaV. .
Pay, tell me, lady, why the maiden was happy
under circumstances so adverse and painful wile
these inmates of the hall of please wen the victims
t exquisite nisery I The former,4thogh m'pbJysi-

*o
^ *






30 Two 4ne ot comam.

ea tgm s ad poertyrenjoyed a meal heaven;
the ler, though in an exter l Eden, suffid a
msal hell. Why this difference Plainly beedus,
as we have before affirmed, the mind is its own
heaven or its own hell; and because, if pleasure
reigns not within the breast, it canat come from
without: while, if ijs queen within, outward things
may disturb, but cannot destroy its reign. How
consummate, therefore, is the folly of lookag oat of
thk sid for your enjoyment HoW wise ad pro-
dent to look within yourself for that happiness which
is at one your aspiration and your privilege!
The truth nfoldd and mplifed in this chapter
may seem so trvial to my reader, that she may be
disposed o tom her little head, and throw dowa my
book in proud disdain. She can hdly persuade
herself that the difference between lokold within
without herself for happiness is so great that
. $ the latter would be a fata mistake. But let me
assure her that
"TblangPa eM t what t w~ey. ;
Jeeming differences An involve aim*|




i -. .

Iam mTA orl A uM w 31

inafie consequences that is lte part 4*kdp
to ook well at thoseJtruths which the heart mpi
rememberiag that ,
"The por hrb, whea dll that pop q ll briy
Wa val to.chrm, adits to oblm', ri ;"
and that a lije Me at little things may blapt your
brightest hopes, and tumble your most magnificent
expectations to the dust. It was thus that an ancient
prince of Sardinia lost his own liberty .s~M4i
fr"ien He had fallen, by the chance owr,.
into the prison of Bologna: AswILu, his friend,
Scontrived a plan for his escape. elated him a-
closed in an empty ton which IAd coalhid wine.
Trusty friends were waiting, with swift h s, eat-
ide the city. The tun was being along the
passages o thl prison. It reachedjhe gates unss-
pected, erbWl 'soldier observed. Iock of hair pro-
t4 g from the barrel; i was opened, and the
unhappy b redi headed to his dungeon. Asinelli
was banished,3d another friend was put to death. *
*Thus the tri6ng neglect to conceal a lock of hair
Sst years of sorrown w many hearts. l;Bha the




*






38 4i Tovme LADY'S cOOUmSL .

mn whn closed the barnl saw that lock f hair, as
you mo this truth; and perhaps they thought, in
their haste, it was hardly worth while to hinder
themselves by stopping to enclose it.' I1 so, how
fatal their haste! It undid their labors, and ruined
their plan. Even so, my dear young Mend, a hasty
contempt for the counsel which teaches you that
"earth's real wealth is in the heart," and assures
you that to rely on outward things for happiness is
a fa&l iitake, may be runous to all that really
precious in your life and destiny. Receive it, there.
fore, with rejection; follow it with resolutions adhere
to it wih determination. Then shall you escape
the experience of an earthly mind, who wrote, in
the bitterness of his disappointment, that

Dark to "m ood grows the heaven tht sale
OP the delariion nature pae the cMU."











CHAP R IU.

THE JUTOAmI Olf LnU UNSAID.

t ON the loftiest and most rug-
ged peal of the Alps, a species
of fir-tree is said to lourish
amont roqji whose abvost utter
destitution of soil refuses sport
to plant or flower. Yet there this
pine-tree grows, defyia the barer
soil and the "howlig tempest
"Till its height and frtm
Are worthy of the mountains from ihoe block
Of bleak pay granlte into life it eme,
AS grew giant tree."
Whbnce is the life of this gantic treee I
The scanty soil, in which its stragling roots scarcely
fnd a covering,'is obviously insufficient. Is ft, then,
Ip 1 Does its nutrient arise -A itself
I Nayg for we can hadly conceive how a
T upp* o 4 *
1:'
,9 "!'(/ *






34 m M r Lon mater's oolxnuuL .

stripaie fir could wax into a giant tree," without
obtsking the materials of its growth from some
srcp besides itself. tHace w infer, that, while its
roots exhaust the little nutriment contained in the soil,
its branches embrace and absorb the atmosphere; and,
by an invisible process of almost infinite skla, the
tree elaborates the elements of life from s particles.
Thus, while its growth aad greatness may be aid to
be from within itself, yet ave they not wholly od4ist.
* The mind may do the same." It may enjoy its
healthiest and highest life amidst the most rugged
features of external existence; for, 16 the Alpine
fir, it may find invisible elements of support, which,
though not originating in itself, nevertheless Spring
up within it as from a fountain of living raptae. If
left wholly dependent upon itself, it couldme hond
real enjo nt in an Eden of beauty; for, isdilen
human Mtire, happiness is not n inborn spring; it
is a living fountain, brought into the heart by a peer
which, though dwelling t.th temple of the seal,
not of it, but infiitel al ie it. '" l y
*or is it possible to atain real enjoyment


*0 ?





*
m wowns or ui 3muL5.
4 *.
the pusence of4is power. In the preced stapr
I have shoAn that no height of iptllectual glpaM,
no elevation of social condition, no amount of1tsdll
trial wealth, no softness of climate, no beauty 6f
landscape, nay, nor all human things combined, -
can, of themselves, elaa unasiste heart to ais-
course' sweet music, or in tI blissful tranquillity.
,Yet I cannot forbear to fortify thit vital point by
another striking example. Hear the confession of a
welhy peer of England, -a scholar, a Loet, a
traveller,a mn in whom every vible condition of
human happinss met,- and arm the total.inaS-
.ciency of all to chee the spirit ;yea, learn -ow de.
olatt a thing is the human heart, when it proudly
leans upon itself aloe, in the following melancholy
latgua which this poor 'rich man address
hi sister: -.
"I was disposed,t. be pleased. I am *lover of
naure and an admirer of beauty. I an bear fatigue
and welcome privation, and have seen some of the
blest views in the world. nut in all this, the
rdollection.of bittrness, and more peial of

' *," ".
9 ** \,
1 4*.*<






36 iru TWon LAunr' ooVms s..


reet mi v home desolation, which nust accompany
me hMbugh life, has preyed upon me here; and
dhier the music of the shepbrAs, the crashing d
the avalanche, tor the torment, the mountain, the
glacier, the forest, no& the cloud, have for one
moment lightened the weight upon my heart, noi
enabled me to lose my own wretched identity in the
majesty and the power apl glory around, above an
beneath me." ,
If this sad lament of a weary heart were a isoi
fact in human history, it would not be admissible to
infer 4 general priaiple from it.. But it i. nt.
Every soul that has trusted to imslf alone, since the
world begar, has uttered a corresponding wel of
agony; and it is therefore a fai eampl.of what the
human mind is, when left to its own resources,-a'
misrable, empty, wretched thing. Miss La6MI's
harp gave forth a note of truth when it saw

"The heart i Iade too msdtive
Lis daly pain to bwr
It beets Ia msal, but t beat
Bemnth a Il dlspir."






MWm m G W m Um M l VT
w ql' *'
.


What, thea iaaean ed oreas da
bliss I What is that which must be Wlbrght' lthe
mind td give geamkB enjoymp tt If my yeo.
friend will humbly take ir seat whe i beautiful
Mary at, she shall be the mighty secret, in
wor4s of authority, from the lips of Jesus, He says:
*Whomesser drinksethf th wr tat Tr s*a gie
as never itirw; hut e water that fatal gje
PALL a Ir ma a weU of aster, springing up
Ip eteraer: I.."
"M f a s le me, he mi2 w p may a, o n ,-
A Wt WNa Wosihss, ad spe 6a0 0se40
*e OJWr abodcf w-ith Afim"
Idl see you again, and yaor heart shaS rsjdoi,
and yeur joy ano Masaketkfrous so."
"My peao ive yIunto yo."
Here, theu, my*beloved reader, the great t
stands dtbefore you.. God received into .the so
by simple faith, is the rand ad oly sereof true
happiness. He i that f. tin of ring watar,
whose streams er.esh theamry spirit, and satisfy ih
Iammodnalh t t. WhereABidwelb thereasbNeem uu r

.' .. .4
4 I


*'tir..






TOR Town IADS OoUNUS.


lo veJ an hope, in all their beauty: the storms
af psion arise not in His presence. The visible
world, ilded by the ry of His glory, can be rely
and innocently enjoyed, because he brings the inter
nal faculties into harmony with external things.
The relations of social life can be enjoyed; their
duties performed with efficiency and plesmue. The
future is invested with puandtw and glory. All
interests of life are felt to be safe, for they am in W
keeping of GO, of God not afar off in clouds and
darkness, but of God abiding in pepetual spiritual
mnifeeatiou within the breast. The beautiful
ideal of the Grecian mythology, concerning the gd
des whose soft and delicate tread caused the green
herb and lovely flower to spring up on the island of
Cyprus, becomes a literal fact in the experience ofa
christian lady; for, in whatever soul God enters a
welcomed guest, every lovely plant springs up, and
every beauteous fower grows with divine fertility.
He is "a ias of water springsg up into stern


Oa you conceive of any calamity mse agpplliug


'F

? r",






r M mfAm oar ups rmsAX. 1
s *
atn a widely-sred mine M 1 M tshe -
idea, eve to the fancy, of a whole stim tedr
ftm its resources by uniserl swrility! ut' how
much more so must be the act itslfl With what
fasfdl eagerness the people i h fr signs of main
Yet weeks, months and yeaspss, and the sky is
clear and cloudless the sun glows fiercely in the
aens~; the air iniSt ad sultry; the earth is
sBhd and cracked; every blade of grass, every
herb and every tree, dries uj, until af is ari and
barren as the dsrt. Nature languishes, mnd4n h*
falesess oppresses her children, uati dia1e and
g ning fill the land, and hecatmbs of dead cover
its surface with graves.
Yet, in the certain prospect of such an event, behold
the sublime serenity of the Egyptian nation inmhe age
of Joseph. The face of the people is gay and-heer-
ful. The voice of song resounds all over the land,
from the hundred gates of Thebes to the mouths of
the Nile. Though the nation was assured that for
seven years th sway of th terrible evil would be
maintined yet a most absolute fearlessness of death


q.9


I .







49 roe s w a T'Sonwmsu, e.
I bO

hept Wtry heart strong, and excluded all appreha-
sam of serious suffering, alike from the proud palaces
of Paroh and the zna hovel of the peasant.
Famine reigned in the land, yet peace dwelt in the
hearts of the people.
Whence arose this astonishing national repose in
the midst of so menacing an evil Behold the
imMense stores of food with wMch the vast pganaries
of the land are groaning! And, at the head ofr
government, behold the'inspired man whose prophetic
wisdom foretold the event,-whose forecast prepared
these almost boundless supplies, and whose wisdom
presides over the distribution! These facts explain
the great enigma of so much calnrhess amid so
much that was foridlble! The 1le knew their.
inability to cope with the sterility of nature, but
their reliance on the predictions and ability of Joseph
was so strong they could not fear. Famine might
rage,-they were helpless to resist it; but Josepl had
provided an ample supply for their wants, and they
ejoiced in a happy consciousness of security from
starvation and death.

*
0 '




N-.- **


Tn Posarm or us onesan 4W
*
Yoa have now diffioty, my ye"B nieal%
understanding the action of this codea iMth-
minds of the Egyptians, 1 that without it bey
would have been absolutely wrtchd. It will there-
fore be easy for you to transfer the idea to your own
necessities and resources. Viewing yourself h your
relations to human society, you cannot fail to per.
ceive ipgh of evil, of danger, and of suffering, bea
I* You everywhere behold women whose early.
career was as gay, as secure, %s promismg,u yoa
own, the victims of heart desolationof acute sdfie
ing, of neglect, of poverty, to who-)ifeis as a
dqurt waste, here suffocating wina sweep Idely
pat them, and-tifling sands threaten to bury them
in death. In direction, ou see a daughter
thrown upon her own resources by the premature
death of her parents; in another, a wife, but ester-
day a happy bride, left to indescribable soeow by tdh
neglect of an unfaithful husband, o% lunged into a
mournful widowhood by the visitation of death.
What multitudes of women, who, a lttl while a
reoiced as gayly as the joyous la in the thehD .
a

* I






0 tM ToUMs LAm's OILJaM


-seW of a happy girlhood, are living in weakness,
toil aad adnes, weary of life, yet unwilling and unfit
to die! True, much of this vast amount of female
misery might have been avoided; yet, in the full
knowledge of its existence and of your own weakness,
you cannot avoid the conviction that yes are liable
to similar experiences. With the Egyptians you can
see dark forms of il throwing your path. You
dare not face them alone! They are calcula o
affright your spiiit What, then, is necessary to give
you an intelligent and stable peace of mind I What
to save you from these sufferings and sorrows of your
sex I Plainly, you ised a cow dms lise that of the
Egyptians. Your heart must rely upon some power,
able and willing to preserve you from such manifest
evils. A friend, who will guide your steps, watch
over and secure your interests, support you in your
trials, and deliver you in trouble, is a necessity of
your nature. Could you be sure of such a friend,
you could gaze upon the ill of life with as fearless a
smile as that with which the people of Pharaoh
looked upon the sterility of their country.


p


* ,






,an ~sam owr Was MaMaMa

Bkt whrs is t hum filed whose qual)br
"ch to inspire you with is meential codsmlt
As! he is not to be founds Ir eery other mortal I
like younelf exposed to trouble and danger. If it
were otherwise, if t t venerable parent who
watched yoa infancy and youth with so muac solici-
tude, and in whose love you feel so secure, possessed
the m to protect yeo through life,-you know that
read on which his existence hangs is more fiil
than a lute-string. How, theft, casaou camlgy face
your destiny with such a trust You cannot do it!
You ned power, wisdom, love, sympathy, duration,
in the Being si whom your spirit can epese jn per-
feet serenity. And who is such a friend but Jeho-
vah Whose friendship can calm jpr soePua hit
What but religious faith can inspire so delightful a
trust ? What is there in the human soul to create
this sense o safety, amids the unquestionable dan
ges by which it is surrounded? Nothing! positively
nothing I Selfreliance presumptuous arrogance.
To trust in man is to pluck the fruit that grows O
"folly's topmost twig." To be without coMidene is


*.


4




*r *.

'

4Y *' m am am's oqmtua.

ibowitched, whether ymor home be the aiae of a
merhant prince, or the.cdttge of a toiling pesan
To a religious faith, therefore, are you shut up. The
point before you is as plail as a self-evident truth;
you must be wretched or iligious. Embrace the
faith of Christ, and forthwith a confidezee will spring
up in your soul which will disarm life of-its terrors,
enable you to defy its emergencies, assure you thall
chance is excluded from the government of the
that4aur interests are all safe in the hands of the
infiite God, whose attributes are pledged to promote
your safety. You will then see Omnipotenee as the
wall uilt-around you; infinite resotces ready to be
employed in your behalf, and bbundles love dis-
triutig the rinaes requisite to supply your nece.
sities.
Blessed with this sublime trust, you will walk the
ways of life as'calmly f the ideal pilgrim, in the
picture of a German artistwhose beautiful painting
contained a lovely child waking slowly along a nar-
row pat, bounded on each side bj a terrific preci.
pioe the edge of Whikl were concealed from him by





qm *
4 r %oam as WSsme t \

slauriuit border tfimra SMrM,. Bek
lfant pilgrim there sioad angel, his whiA
spreading upward into the evening sky, his bhnds
placed lightly on the shAlders of the little travlr,
as if to guide him sfeir along the da*ous path.
The child's ye were closed, that the beautiful fow-
ers and luscious fruit might not tempt him'to tuse
ojtwp aside; and he wlked calmly forward, smil-
e content, as if perfectly satisfied, so long
as he felt the gentle pressure of thque angelic 'hands.
With religious faith you may walk through the edls
of life equally fearless, safe and happy. .
IMr is the bhfience of a religious faith on d .
fte of the heart its ely relation to your prw'
enjoyment. It is peculialy adapte(is o that &np
tive isolation ftom ptlve -life which falls to tip lot
of your sex. Home is womaa wried,as well as her
mpire. Man lives x4a in soity.. The busy
marts of trade, the bustdig exhangg, the aadly of
artisan life, are his sphpes They call -t, his
energies, and occupy his thoughts. ~Bit- js n's
life is spent in comparatNive .lif. O' 6h ts.




' ,


O "' T nro i Lrl' oCIUk..

fagI possible, moe dependent upon her iawal
natrces than her more stirring companion. And
how is she to feel contented with the loneliness of
her lot, in spite of that "longing for sympathy that
belongs to hr nature" I Shb cannot be, nesM she
enjoys the supports of religion. But, with this
divine life within her, she becomes, to use the lan-
guage of the Duchess of Newcastle, "a bea kl
creature, tremblingly alive to the influences
beautiful world, tamblingly conscious that but a thin
elil separates this actual daily life from the world of
spirits. Being with whom the sense of immrtal-
ity is an actual presence, lingering about heroth
and about her path, and whose heart is cheen as
by the breathing of the air of paradise. Such a
bepg as this, finding herself unguide ad a alone
among those of her sex whose talk is of Paris fid.
ions, bonnets and balls, whose lives are w=ui "
their conversation, such a being can lean on a
earthly arm for support, nor look to anyarthly
sympathy for comfort. Over her heart God m t
mathe the thly cahl of his peace."






-n 1 ai m0 I sAun. 4
2a imWAm or UM Ama6sas

And sweet is the cala he bemth-s, -
aexuberant the joy he inspires. While -" WAs
women are poor, suffering one, who wander in the
thorny path oef life, pinijg for happiness and going
tray aier its very sladow," religious tmen find
an "unspeakable joy" in religion, which enriches
every inferior and earthly pleasure. To them hese
ijlin feeling the first breath of the morning fan-
^e cheek; joy in the balm of April sunshine
and showers, and in the flower of beautiful May.
There is joy in the joyous laugh and the silvery
voice of childhood,-in the romance of yodth we eae
diades ;er heart; there is joy in the breat of th
bride a she gives her hand, with her heart tn it,'
to her lover; joy in a mother's bosom as she ptese
her firstborn to her breast. Ye, even earth a its
jop; but,alas! they are as meeting as sunshine, a
uias dowers; but they have also a joy
deeper, fuller, richer, sweeter, imperishable as the
undying spirit,--it is the joy of oligioa love."
How desimble is this joy to you, my dear young
lady, whose life, in common with that of meet W



*







a %. ls TO1UM LADT'IS 00C 11A.


pan sea must necessarily be spent in compramtiv
ittion!
In some portions of the frigid zones the inhabit.
ants provide themselves with habitatiai beneath the
surface of the ground. During their brief summer
they convey large stores of food and fuel to these
subterranean abodes. When winter comes, they
enter them and live peacefully there, indiffere to
the desolating storms and dreary snows whiW
and rage above their heads. Their home is their
winter world, and it contains all their little wants
demand. Hence, they live in secure plenty, mlin
at the bowling storm which leaves th sl
untouched and safe.
Very similar is the infuene of religion in humau
life. It makes its possessor independent of outwrd
circumstances; it enables her to defy the changes of
life. What if friends are fals health decays, for
tune fails, wasting storms drive furiously around hei
head Is her happiness litt Nay! for she has
not depended upon friends, health or fortune, for her
highest pleasure. As superior streams of comfort






ian omhrTAm or un muaniaU 49

vwa has welcomed and enjoyed them, but o tA
mountain of her delight. Their removal, thellte,
leaves her in full possession of her chief good. A
sterile, snolwinter may rage without, but she has
her God within herself, and is satisod. He is
her world. His presence and favor constitute her
heaven, though her visible life is filled with discom-
f and woe. Very strongly, yet very beautifully,
aL ancient Christian, according to TAuLimas,
once apems this divine bliss, when a doubting friend
inquired, "What would you do, if God should cast
you into hell?"
S"Cast meintohell! God will not do that. But
She were to cast me into hell, I have two arms,-
an arm of faith and an arm of love; with these I
would lay hold on God, and cling to him so firmly
that I would take him with me! And surely no evil
could befall me there; for, I would rather be with
God m hell, than to be in heaven without him!"
This is very strong perhaps too strong -lan-
guage; yet it nobly expresses the superiority of the
Christian to adverse circumstances, his independ.
8







MS s tOUmro LDY's CoumSLLOt .

ea f human ewnts and troubles. The old poet,
VA~us, has a stanza which is so instinct with this
spirit of heroic triumph over outward vicissitudes, 1
cannot forbear quoting it. Viewing thgChristian in
an era of persecution and martyrdom, he puts these
burning words into his lips:

Bor me alive with curious skilful pain,
Cut up and search each warm and breathing vein;
When all Is done, death brings a qul' release,
And the poor mangled body sleps in peace.
Hale me to prison, shut me up in brass,
My still free soul from thse to God shall puss
Banish or bind me, I can be nowhere
A stranger or alos, my God is there.
I far not famla. How oubhe be said
To starr, who feeds upoa tl liing bread 7
And yet this courage singas t from my store, -
Christ gaee it me, who canlive much more."

How desirable, in a world so changeful as this,
that a young lady, so feeble and so exposed, should
posses this hidden peace from Christ, which neither
create nor circumstance can take from her!
Peinaps, lady, you are a lover of music. The
piano is your favorite instrument, from whose keye






Tm sewMU oWr USn u ru. Af'

yeo draw many pleasant sounds. FPrmitat i
you a lesson upon it. You know it contains
wires, all of which are called into use at time, sa
are ncessarto its perfection. Each of these wires
has its own peculiar sound, which it must render
precisely, else a discord jrs on your ear, and destroy
the harmony of the music. To create and to pre-
serve this harmony, it has to be submitted to the
kilful hand and ear of the tuner; otherwise, as a
musical instrument, ft would fail to afford you pi -
ure. However costly in its materials and Mqft
cnt in its extnl Anish, you would oly be pained
*y itby presence, so long a its tuneless state fosad
you to touch a key. .t, once in perfect tuneyou
enjoy exquisite delightp4 elicious melody fill
your enraptured ear.
It is thus witr your mind. It has various funo-
tions and qualities, intellectual and moral, each of
hich is designed to act in a specific manner; and
which mat so act, to constitute you happy in you-
elf, ndan instrument of good to society. But, like
the piLao, the mind is oat of tune. Though in.




*


6B 1as oup LADY'S COUNSIIJLO

t*sl pained by the discords it utters, it neverthe.
le continually produces them. It requires tuning,
therefore, or it must be a self-tormenting thing of
discords forever-magnificent in its construction, gk.
rious in its powers, yet failing to attain the sublime
end of its creation. To drop my comparison, the
mind is unable of itself to develop those qualities
which are necessary to its own enjoyment, and to its
right influence over others. And nothing less than
the power of religion can repress its evil tendencies,
and develop its superior qualities. As the tuner of
instruments may justly say of the piano, "without
me it is nothing," so does Christ actually say to
you, lady, "without me ye can do nothing." Christ,
and Christ alone, is sufficient to clothe you with that
loveliness of moral character which will cause your
life to pass happily to yourself and to be benefiEia! u,
others. How else can your life be
A shared stnam,
In whose calm depths the beaatfl sad par
Alone an mirrored "

How else can you acquire that guileless ingenue







Ma oanam oir ir MMUia .

ousnesa, that dignity combined with ti prudent reserve unmixed with haughtiness, tat Ad .
patriotism so modest and yet so heroic, that courage
without fierceness, that energy without rashne, that
purity without a spot, that earnest self-deying
industry, that wise forecast, that prudent economy,
that constellation of high moral qualities, whose mild
light sweetly gilds the gloom of external circum-
stances, and makes woman a "spotless form of
beauty."-arms her with power to move the soul, to
win the affections, to attain the ideal excellence of
Scaam n's Quzan ElmanT or SlAn, who moted

With labor ud auboaxtfl majesty,
Ali from careless levity rmote
And a behavior scheolM by selish rules,
Alike removed fom ruhness and from fear.
With frm and fearless step she ever walked
The nrrbw path of duty- all unconscious
That sh won worship, where she never dreamed
Of approbtion"?

Qualities like these can grow to harmonious per-
fection by nothing les than God in your soul.
Their semblances may be produced by simple self-







5 TeR TO LmDrI' OOUES o mx.

entire; but they will be only as jewels of paste,
compared with genuine stones. His presence will
adorn you with genuine excellence, render you inde-
pendent of life's changing joys, satisfy you, and
enable you to extract what of pure pleasure exists in
earthly things. Thus may your life pan,
*' That every hour
S8hll die s dies a natural tower-
A self-lviving thing of power
That every thought and every deed
May held within itself the eed
Of fture good mmd ftare *ee













CHAPTER Ill.

INFLUENCE.

FATHER upr xy ntLUzMC, AID
myr rr wrra !" exclaimed a
youth, whose unforgiven spirit was
sinking into the invisible world.
Idle request! Had he begged his
friends to bind the free winds, to
chain the wild waves, to grasp the fierce
lightning, or make a path for the sand-
blast, his wish would hare been more
feasible; for past influence is unchangeable.
The sceptical thought that fell as a seed of
evil from the lip and grew in the heart of the
listener into defiant infidelity, the light word that
pierced the spirit like a poisoned dart, the angry
glance which stirred the soul to anguish and made
ears flow at the midnight hour, are alike beyond






56 3 YouNo LADy's couNSZLOrw.


ow smach. The mind thus wounded sighs on, and
WAer we are dead the chords vibrate which our fin-
germ touched. The measure of that influence, for
weal or woe, will lie hidden, a terrible secret, until
the day when the spirit, blindly driven to despair
and guilt, or blasted by sceptical thought, shall stand
writhing and wretched to confront those by whom
the offence came, and to teach that inflwume is i"-
mutaMe and eternal!
Such are the fearful sentiments contained in a
fugitive poem which once met my eye. They are
thoughts peculiarly adapted to the consideration of a
young lady; for, whatever may be her grade in
society, her talents or opportunities, it is a necessary
condition of her existence that she mnwt exert this
potential thing we call influence. It is not a matter
of choice. She cannot say she will not exercise it,
for she must. From every glance of her eye, every
word of her lips, every act of her life, there goes
forth, in a greater or less degree, an invisible power,
which produces an effect upon the minds around her.
This power to affectotheis iinfence. It isa gi






mrnuRNC. 67

of Heaven to every human bi*t. Whether itiill
be productive of evil or good, is for each po-isor
determine. It is like the rod of Moses, which was
either the prolific instrument of plague and oe, or
the means of driving evil and destruction frqn the
land, as the inspired will of its great owner deter-
mined. Thus with this precious gift. It may scat-
ter pestilence, desolation and death, or it may brig
forth life and beauty; it may be.a harp of sweetest
melody, making glad the heart of the world, or it
may be a discordant trumpet, rousing the passion
of mankind to angry and tempestuous strife, as its
possessor may decide.
Will you imagine yourself in one of the vast
cathedrals of Europe Behold its spacious aisles
and lofty galleries, crowded wih masses of specta-
tors of all ranks and of every age, from the gray
bearded patriarch of eighty to the fawn-like girl of
five or six. Suppose yourself placed belh the keys
of its magnificent organ, and aired to execute a
piece of music, with the information that certain
keys, hearing particular marks, have the power, if
8*






88 TN 0roWS LAD's counULLDL.


impoperly touched, of producing violent pam in the
~pdience, which no medical science could assuage or
JJ cure; while, if they are skilfully touched, their .
S delightful melody will create the most exquisite
sensations of enduring pleasure. In such a position,
4 would you not exert your utmost powers to avoid
/' those movements which would thrill your auditory
with anguish ? Would you not enter, with grave
earnestness, upon those which would be followed
with bursts of joy Your ardent response is in
your heart and eye; and you almost wish for the
opportunity of choosing between such alternatives.
If my previous remarks ar true, you have not
only such an opportunity, but one of far higher and
nobler character. By a proper use of this more than
fairy gift of influence, you can call into existence
%motions of pure delight, capable of infinite self-mul-
pli'ijie multitude of human spirts which
will comeW our sphere during your lifetime.
By neglecting 4 proper use of your gift, you will
create agonies of equal duration and intensity. Can
you, therefore, refue a few moments of giad thght-






WUEWs.


hinesto so weighty a point What fif lieis y g,
and its paths are strewed with flowers? What (..
the current of your ordinary ideas runs in a contrary .
direction ? What if a dne sene of the true repons-
ibilities of life should restrain, in some degree, the'
gayety of your spirits Are you, therefore, to
trample upon the happiness of others ? Are you to
peril your own best interests ? Remember, as is *,
your influence, se is your destiny. There is a woe
for those who suffer from evil influence; but a
heavier, direr woe for her "by whom the offence
cometh." Consider, therefore, my dear young lady,
with a seriousness worthy of your immortal nature,
and a gravity beyond your years, the bearings of this
momentous question. Resolve, in the silent depths
of your reflecting spirit, "I will take care of my
influence!" a
Transport your mind back, through-dearted time,
some thousand years, and enter with mrone of the
royal castle of Enland. Wihin one of its turret
chambers behold a youthful bride, the daughter of an
emperor, the wife of a king. Why is she secluded






Ud0 ru rn Te LM'S oouaze VaU.


iht, while the old halls of the castle are rasoundi
with the merry voices of high-born youths and noble
S ladies ? What is her occupation ? Let that antique
volume of illuminated manuscripts, containing the
gems of Saxon poetry, be your answer! She fiad
her pleasure not in the idle pastimes of an ignorant
court, but in the study of polite literature. She is
devoted to the duty of self-culture to the full extent
of her means and opportunities. Now, as we gaze
on this enthusiastic young woman, it would appear
romantically improbable, if I were to predict that her
influence would lead to the elevation of England
from a state of semi-barbarism,obscurity and impo.
tency, to a position so potential sad commanding as
to make her feared, envied and admired, by all the
other nations of earth. Yet what would have then
seemed rqpar tic as a prediction, is now an historical
Sfact. For iis lady's name is Jorra, the step-
mother of that great prince, ALms, whose talent
and genius laid the ooundations Egland's legal,
commercial and intellectual iuped y. And it was
to Judith he was indebted for the first awning of




4 ,V
*? U ' 1
maaon. 6

is intellectual life, the develenment of his Mt
qualities, and the formation of his splendid character.
Hence, but for the influence of this superior prindes,
Alfred would never have been what he was; and his
country would never, perhaps, have achieved the
stupendous greatness which it now posesses, by
which it does, and will, perhaps to the end of time,
affect the destinies of the world.
The design of this illustration is to reilove fromt
your mind that incredulity which aroe in it as you
read my remarks concerning the immense extent and
duration of individual influence. You thought it
impossible that you, a young lady, could pssess
such a fearful pher for good or ill. Had the
youthful Judith been told the precise results of her
influence on the world, she would have ridiculed the
statement, and have pronounced its author insae.
Yet there stands its living record, in the story and
condition of the British nation. And, sije a cor-
responding power resides in your soul, who can
imagie the fathomless'depths of the consequences
which an yet to poceed from its exercise Your







STr YOUNG LAunY' COUmSELLOI.

sm instead of shielding you from the necessity of
exerting such power, exposes you to it in the strong
est man er; for it brings you in contact with mind
when in its most impressible state, and when your
influence over it is abounding, and almost absolute.
You think, perhaps, if you were of the other sex, and
your sphere was with warriors, statesmen and magis-
trates, on the public arena of life, there might be at
least a possibility of your casting a stone into the
sea of humanity, whose ever enlarging influence
would be seen circling immeasurably far into the
misty future. But your sphere is private, limited
and feminine, and cannot affn- scope for such
results, you think. Vain thougel! You are a sis-
ter, and may mould a brother's mind to virtue and to
usefulness. You are a daughter, and for your sake
your father may put forth efforts of unbounded
might. You may hereafter bear the honored name
of wife, and the more sacred one of mother. Your
influence may then determine the character of your
husband, and fix the destiny of your children. It
may make your son an Augustine, a Washington,


,T 1




-n. -.




an Oberlin, a Wesly; or it may leavehim to au-
his ne, with pestiferous teachings, like Socis or
Murray, with wars of ambition, like Napoleon, or
with a baleful legacy of infidelity and rice, like
Home or Carlyle. For who can imagine that if
Monica had been an irreligious woman, Augustine
would have been a holy bishop If Washington's
mother had not inspired him with the principle of
self-denying patriotism, his country might have
found him a tyrant, instead of a father. And but for
the sterling qualities found in the mothers of Oberlin
and Wesley, the name of the former would never
have adorned the nals of benevolence with such
enchanting beast r would the latter have erect-
ed that vast ecclesiastical fabric, whose strong and
rapid growth is the greatest moral wonder of the last
century. Say not, therefore, that because you are a
woman your influence must be limited, but remem*
ber that your sex laces you at the head-waters of
the great river of humanity, where a pebble may
change the direction of the streamlet.
Itb said that a little boy in Holland was retmn-




I


61> T M rYow LADr'S COVmm LLOL.

mg one night from a village, to which he had been
sent by his father on an errand, when he observed
the water trickling through a narrow opening in the
dyke. He paused, reflected on the consequences
that might follow if that aperture was not closed.
He knew, for he had often heard his father relate the
sad disasters proceeding from such small beginnings,
that in a few hours that opening would enlarge, and
let in the mighty mass of waters pressing on the
dyke, until, the whole defence being washed away,
the adjacent village would be destroyed. Shjh
hasten home and alarm the ierspld be
dark before they could arrive, orifice might,
even then, be so large as to detf npt to close it.
Prompted by these thoughts, he seated himself un
the bank of the canal, stopped the opening with his
hand, and patiently awaited the approach of some
villager. But no one came. Hour after hour rolled
slowly past in cold and darkness, et there sat the
heroic boy, shivering, wet and weary, but stoutly
pressing his hand against the dangerous breach. At
last the morning broke. A clergyman, walking up


.k. b.-






rI" LxOB. -.

the carl, had a groan and moht for its mndth
," Why are you here, my child 1" he asked, surprised
at the boy's position.
I am keeping back the water, sir, and saving the
village from being drowned," responded the child,
with lips so benumbed with cold they could scarcely
articulate the words.
The astonished minister relieved the boy. The
dyke was closed, and the danger which had threat-
ene4ehudreds of lives averted- "Heroic boy! what
a noble sp self-devot&dnesa he displayed!" you
exclaim,. T'1 'bUltwhat was it that stained him
in hiamissioa thro4* that lonesome night 1 Why,
when hlMp ch ajq is limbs trembled and his
hb I palpitated, did e not fly to the warmth and
Safety of home ? What thought bound him to his
Sseat T Was it not the responsibility of his position t
Did he not restrain everfdeeire to leave it, by the
thought of what wpuld follow, if he should ? His
mind pictured the qtiet homes and beautiful farms
of the people inundated by the flood of waters, and
he determined to maintain his position or to die.







I THE YOUNG LDT'5 COUNIXLLOB.

And ought not the higher and more weighty respona-
ibihty of your position possessing, as you do, the
power to turn a tide of endless death, or a stream of
perennial life, upon the pathway of mankind to
beget in you a purpose, stern, resolute, inflexible, to
be true to your position, and to use your influence
for good, and not for evil ? Say not of yourself, in
careless, selfabandonment to circumstances,

"I am s a weed
Flung from the rock, on ocen's foam to sail
Where'er the urge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail."

But take your stand before the world, with an in-
vincible determination with

An earnest purpose for a generous end."

Consecrate your influence to virtue, to humanity,
to God. Thus, in your life, you shall be "like a
star glittering in its own mild lustre, undimmed by
the radiance of another, and uneclipsed by the deep
shades of the midnight heavens."
In that remarkable work, entitled the Connection
of the Physical Sciences," by MAr SomKnrtI






mK sses. M

and this interting eUmple of the eoheelire p
by which the atoms of material substances ar held
together. The manuactuer of plate glass, after
polishing the large plates of which mirrors ae to be
made, carefully wipe them and lay them on their
edges, with their surfaces rting on one another. It
not infrequently happens, that, in a short time, the
cohesion is so powerful they cannot be separated
without breaking. instances have occurred where
two or three have been so perfectly united, that they
bare been cut and their edges polished, as if they
had been fused together; and so great was the force
required to make their surfaces slide, that one toe
off a portion of the surface of the other!
How mighty must be that force, which, acting on
these plates, binds them in inseparable unity! The
same cohesion unites the particles of our globe, and is
the fore that prevents it from crumbling into atoms.
But, mighty as it it is invisible. How it acts, no
mind has yet discovered. We me its effects, bt we
cannot perceive its operations. Yet who is so fool-
hardy as to deny its existence, because it refuses to







ab a roUno LIADTr' COmUNiLLOr.


meal its presence, or unfold the mystery ;f its
action Nay, we concede it as a fact demonstrated
by every material substance that meets our eyes.
By similar evidence that of facts-we are com-
pelled to admit that powerful influences are exerted
by one mind upon another. These facts are over-
whelming, both in number and in weight. Yet who
can perceive the transmission of influence ? Often,
when we are utterly unconscious of what we do, oth-
ers are receiving indelible impressions from our
words, looks or actions,-impressions which will
affect their destiny, and that of the world, forever.
We forget this, and act without respect to others, in
a great degree, because we do not see the power we
exert. A young lady, who would shrink appalled at
the idea of daily puncturing her brother's eye with a
needle, to the destruction of his sight, will breathe a
spirit of discontent, pride and folly, into his mind;
and thus, by disturbing his happiness at home drive
him to seek congenial society abroad, where hi, mor-
als grow depraved, his character is lost, and his soul
ruined. This merful result she brings about, without






rrrmusw. m

a sigh of regret or a png of sorrow. When thev *
work is done, she weeps over' the wreck, and would
give the gold of the world to restore the fallen one.
Yet for her share in causing this destruction she sheds
not a tear; indeed, she is unconscious thatny por-
tion of the blame lies at her door. Her influence
was silent and invisible when in exercise, and yet it
drove her brother to ruin.
Another peculiarity of influence is the distance of
the effect from the cause. Years will often elapse
between the sowing of the seed and the ripening of
the fruit between the uttered thought, the angry
glance, or the decisive act, and its result. LonrsL-
ww has a beautiful illusttion of this, in one of his
poems. He bids you stand on the bright green-
sward! Shoot an arrow into the air! You watch
its upward flight, as it cleaves the sky; but its fall is
o swift that your eye fails to detect its resting-place.
You search in vain to find it, and pronounce it lost.
Long, long afterward, while wandering over the field,
you perceive the lost shaft entire, sticking in an
aged ask!






TBB YOUNG LADY'S COWBXL OR.
qO ma rouxe sIyn's oosmnsoan.

Again: you breathe a sweet song into the air. It
falls, you know not, think not, where; but long, loag
afterwards, you may find it in the heart of a friend!
It is thus with influence, for good or evil. Its con-
sequences are often hidden from the eye for many
years. Many of them perhaps the most- will re-
main thus secret until the day which will discover
to a universe the things that were done in public or
in private life.
Picture to your mind a young mother, with her little
boy scarce seven years old. She lifts him from his
couch in the morning, and with mild words bids him
kneel and say his infant prayers. Obediently he
drops upon his knees. With upraised hands, closed
eyes, and gentle voice, he sends up his oft-repeated
petition. Presently he is silent. Then, with her
hands softly resting upon his head, a voice of touch-
ing melody, and a heart overflowing with true mater-
nal love, she breathes a holy prayer for her child.
Sweet is the air of that chamber; delightful the
emotions of that little bosom; and pure is the love
with which he embraces his devoted mother, when






-rvow 71'

their martin pyers are ended. At the tesper he
this scene is repeated; and thus, day by day, this
pious woman strives to bring down holy influence
upon her child's heart. Before her boy has well
passed his seventh year, however, she is called by
the angel of death to the spirit land, little dreaming
of the immense power and duration of her influence,
hereafter to be exercised over the world through that
boy. Yet, in after years, her pure image haunted
his memory, rebuking his vices and beckoning
him to the ways of virtue and religion, until he
kneeled at the cross of Christ. He became an elo.
quent and successful minister, an author and a
sacred poet. Through his labors, CLrauus BucHrn-
As, one of the apostles of missionary effort in India,
and the instrument of awakening the attention of
that great Burmese missionary, JunDox, to the wants
of India, was converted. Through him, also, ScoTr,
the commentator, was led to Christ, and to the
consequent production of his valuable commentary.
Another of his converts was Wamsarxui the
champion of African freedom, and the author of that


* .-. .-.. k.






' Trl TO m. LADY'S COUNSLLOB.

* Pratio Vine of Christianity," which, among
other great results, brought LzeH RICHMOwn into the
ranks of Christian discipleship, and inspired him
with that heavenly spirit which fitted him to write
that most useful of tracts, The DJrymarn' Daugh.
ter." That boy was the Rev. Joan NSwroN, and
that woman was his mother. How immeasurable
was the influence she exerted in that solitary cham.
her, so silently, and through the heart of a child!
Yet it was long before it began to yield its fruit.
For nearly twenty years it was apparently dead in
his heart; but it sprung forth at last, and was, as we
have shown, superabandantly fruitful.
An example of evil influence, working through
etturies of time, and upheaving like a volcano, long
after its author slept in death, is found in the case of
Loams or SAvoy, the mother of Francis the First,
King of France. She lived when the Reformation
began to unfold its energies on the soil of France.
For a moment it comr landed her attention; it seized
on her convictions, but obtained no hold upon her
-lepraved affections. The Princess MAeArT, her






l UINCE.

daughter. wi other nobe ldi*, (l ariseolstic
RBisop of Mearu, and several eminent scbkler
braqed it with fenor, and labored for it with usvl.
It needed only the friendship of Lomn to secis its
triumph. For a tiae 'she permitted it to spread-
unchecked; but when her son Frane sad endan-
gered the stability:of li throne, and l a prloqr
of war iSpain, political co nations decided this
dissolute queen-mother to aume An attit f per
secuting hqtilit .towards it. 8 invoked te.spirit
of persecuton. set the unhallowid machinery of the,
inquisition in motion, and us b that errib ,
process of cruelty, which, after centuries'ef coflrt
and bloodshed, succeeded in extirpating it from tha
soil. Sad have been the consequences to F *-
The Reformation expelled, infidelity sprung up,1l
and poionon; it became the aniating spirit of the
people, until, mad with its excitement, they waded
through pols of bleod to the altar if reaso, and
daingly defied the .Qd of heaven. hIt by no
means diflicu to see de connection between the
anarchcal roeedaings of modern France and the
.5







' TE YOUNG LADY' COUNSMLR.


conduct of Lwuis of Savof- It was in her power
to confrm and establsh the Reformation, and thus
give blessing, honor and prospesit, to her country :
she chose to persecute it. Her spirit was transmit-
ted to posterity, and.lives; in is most baleful effects,
at the present hour. How truly has influence been
compared to the bubbling spring, which dapces up
from a little crevice in a mountain recess, and sends
forth a tidkling stream, ;o small that a "single ox,
on a summer's day, could drink it dry." Yet it
speeds unnoticed on its way, levying contributions
upon its sister springs, and mingling with other
streams, until it acquires force sifficient to cut itself
a broad, deep pathway between the hills; and lo!
,rAMeds of miles from its source, it flows in impos-
iig magnificence, bearing proud navies on its ample
bosom, until, with resistless impetuosity, it rushes
into the vast waters of the "boundless sea."
I fancy-perhaps I am nistaken- that your mind
refuses to feel the fullimpression concerning (e
importance of individual infuence which the facts
herin desribed are calc'utes to produce, because
*'


S4


"






3.* .

of the cooperative obfturity of Iou sphru. Yu*
sy to your "Were I a princes or a quen, I
might, like Judit~or Louisa, set in motion immute
bI, potentand immortal influence; but I move in a
narrower sphere, an such-things are impossible for
me." .
Reason not thus, young lady, I pray you, lest you
throw off a sense of responsibility that it were better
to retain. It is influence &at is thus powerful, sot
'the influence of those in high stations. The effect
of their conduct is more easily traced, becauseit
works through public affairs. But the-inluele of a
beggar girl is as potential in her sphere as that of
a queen in her. more enlarged circle. Wealth, sta-
tion, talent, may add to the force and extent'of iiW
ence, but they snnot create it. It is an tribute of
Sour Qature, inseparable irom it, inherent in it
Obscurity cannot presamu its exercise. The possible
Consequences of your actions upon others are as
npsareless as those that paocee from the acts of
thq puissant lady, Qui n Vavrom. They may be
equally, nay, transcmednl mire precious, even
*




RV *
i. C


70 T. iroUnG lLDT's COUNSELLO.

*wagh you are a lonely orphan girl, depenlent upon
others for your support. That timely word of adeec
tionate interest for her lord, dropped by the Syrian
damsel in the ear pf her mistress, is an example. It
brought health to a great waror, it led him to a
linowledge.of the true God; to the spread.e, the
Divine name; and it has lived through centuries,
stimulating untold thousands to speak words of love
and to do deeds of benevlence. Obscurity has no
power, therefore, to neutralize this gift. If you exist,
you must exert powet over others, for weal or woe.
At the close of a summers day, a group of laugh-
ing girls sat on the sps of a pavilion w h stood, a
summer residence, in the midst of beautiful grounds.
The air rung with their merry voices, and the groves
echoed back their laughter. Wha".aaid one of
them, "shouldowe choose for our lot, if some good
fairy should stand before ts, and grant us each a
wih I"
"I would choose to bea coudtess, with my hawks
and hounds to hunt withal," erie4 one, her dark We
gleaming with the pride whic& inspires the wish.

6 et
*


S-
.* * -4*V/ ,'*






o refug .fo m.

I would found a college, sal gMt.*
temple brow and intelligent featewsempwih s her
own love of literature. -; *
"I would build a hospital that shoualId' a hobMu
of refuge for the poor, and bhom for the d -
whae love light soothe their pains add ligbhtn th
burden of sorrow," replied. a third, whfle tear of
Sbenevolei, starting in her eye, delaeda he teao
ierness of-theleart that ptoed this wish.
:And if-I weord ja d,.I would-"
A lqud laugh interrupted thn fourth opeake .It
came froaIthe father f the girls, who, aapeicehed,.
had applied. the party, ad oean d oee their
wishes. After some exclamations.of suprie had
died away, the Mather, who was ne lesh a pernoig
tha4 the faeou Sir TaoxAs Moax, announced hi
purpose to jiant the wish of his daughter MN y,
and build a hospital.: The hospiel was erected, and
S many a disconsolateheamt found shelter and comfort
within it walls. So potent as that wish, dly
j 'uNaed inL moment do'girlh uayety.
The Ieosor insribed on this fact is the uncer

6 .
v' 4






' i. rNYO rame UPr'S OONoomLLoa.

tuiaty which attaches to the particular acts of life.
It shows a careless word prolific of highly beneficial
results, bringing joy to many hearts. In like man-
ner, a careless word may do eil. Hence, we never
know the real importance of our own acts. We can-
not judge which of them will be most influential. A
truth that invests every detail of life with moral
grandeur, and demands the liveliest attention to our
minutest actions.
Permit me; young lady, to ask you how you are
to wield this tremendous element of power, with be.-
efit to others, unles 'you do it by the aid of Divihe
gace ? How can you consecate it to goodness, un-
less the Almighty Spirit of goodness imparts the
power? How can you attain, the 'wise thoughtful-
ness, the lofty aim, the unselfish motive, the resolute
will, so essential to right influence, unless from the
indwelling of the Holy Spirit of love, wisdom and *
purity ? How can you, so.weak, so thoughtless, so
inexperienced, safely guard and. rightly expend, this
priceless treasure, in your own unassisted, sheng' *
It is impossible! You could as easly create an


* .






wm.uanw. Wt

echangl with a word, as to rightldy eart-yMee sm
ence without the religion of Jesu Christ. Reject
him,'and retributive justice will write jxathema on
your influence. You shall feed on its tpible fruit
forever As a spectre, with your lme written in
'distorti m on its fare, it shall stand *befy you. I
shall draw the curtain of your couch when you deep,
and extend 'you "an ice-told hand. It will stad
before y6valt the hour of death, and thrmua 'your
last prayer. It will stand upon y6ugave i' the
resurrection, and at your side when God-' vh4*jsd
you.* But, by emBacing oChM, thM wflthe o.
tive, the power to conmeate your id neum t~obMf
cent ends,'will be given y Yea wIll move' anU
angel of goodness on earth. Your inlaaeunclivni
after your death. will remain

"A rll, aJivr, av a boadles ( ',"

upon whose waters fmberles trphie shall be
borne, to dor your triumph whe Tn yotab your
.,place among the victors in the kingdom of God.

a hiller.

0.SeiUr


Io




.'-








CHAPTER IV.

.TH TIUN BPMHm O0 WOMAN.

HE heroic achievements of the
shepherded of Dommii, AnA or
Aac, are no doubt familiar to my
young reader. Her imaginary in-
spiration; her ehiusiastic persist-
once in the execution of her supposed
minssoa; her daring counge, as, armed
apeg ie abd mounted on b fiery war-
hore, she led the embatted host of
France to victor; her, sOcess, her since.
ity, her melancholy fate,- have awakened
your wonder, your admiration, and year pity. Her
romantic elevation from the peasant's hut to the pal-
sees of kings, her billiant bat brief career, her as-
tounding iluence over proud ecclesiastics, hagty .
nobles and great princes, her unasstionabie and sue-



.. *~






TB Rnun SPBH o? ewnmi >

u l patriotism, are written in4elibly pon your
imagination. .Bat I am bold to peame that, with
all your surprise at her deed, you have nv really
loe her character. Not that there is nothing lovely
.in it; but her masculini attitude casts 'soeesp i
shadow upon her more womanly qualities, you feel
constrained to withhold your love. You cannotfyam
pathise 'wit a womna warrior. Her position, a a
military leader and combatant, unaezes in Ibfo
your feeling, and you ank her with the suem l
of your sex.
On the contrary, you can contemplate the ehame-
ter of HAMna Mons with a truly afebotionat. rerd *
albeit she too was a patriots defender and avior
of her nation. You can contemplate her amian e
4 spirit, heaving with anxious concern at jhedangers
Which hung over her country, at a period when levo-
ltion and anarchy threatened its institutions. You
ce study her mind laboring to discern a method by
which she could'aid in warding off the impending
da r. 'You can witness her studious labor with
the pe, and read her earest appeals to the loyalty
4*




"-


8 ., T YI OUNG LADY'S COUINILLOt .

and good Isne of the English people, though er
popular tracts. You can trace the success of these
appeals in the altered feelings of thousands toward
the government, and in the constitutional and peace-
ful reforms' subsequently brought to pass in that
country. You can hear her named, by the voice of
Fame, as having been one of the principal instru-
ments of saving.the nation, Ift no repugnant feel-
ing rises in your breast toward her You can
admire her talents, her patriotism, wonder at her
success, and; withal, you can ardently love her char-
acter. While Joan of Are lives in your imagination,
Hannah More occupies a place in your sections.
For this difference in your feelings, you are not
responsible. Your repugnance to the character of
Joan of Are, and your affectionate mgard for that of
Miss More, are alike instinctive. They both flow
from the constitution of your nature. They are not
peculiar to your own mind, nor to your own sex.
There are few, if any, minds uninfluenced by pecu-
liar opinions, that would not be similarly a"fict.,t
once, by an impartial view of these two characters






a3u ss msasa or wof*n. *

The mserem arks an a icable to all AMar wnsM
of corresponding qualities. Who, for esampls,ea
love the masculine energy of 'that really IsroO-
minded woman, Queen ErLIsaMIT Her qualities,
great and high as they were, cannot command oar
affections, even though she stands before us as the
"good Queen Bess." So with MaRTHA GOU, the
Swiss heroine, yho led over two hundred women to
the field of'Fram'enbrun and to death, in defence of
liberty; with JAzL, the destroyer of S'era; and with
every other woman who has stepped over the'sphere
which nature, with unerAng wisdom, has assigned to
her sex. While VoLwmmA and Vmon.u, the mother
and wife of Coriolanus, who saved their country by.
affectionate appeals to the love and patriotism of that
indignant warrior,--Lady JAN GRny, who chose
imprisonment and death rather than to shed English
blood in defence of her claims, -and sen Queen Vs-
ro in whom the woman is more prominent than
the queen, with hosts of others, who have blended true
womanly qualities with great and heroic deeds, live in
the afections of both sexes. How clear, therefore, b






M TIB YOUNG LADT'S COUNALULMA

the oath, that women in their proper sphere can mr -
ifet noble qualities, and be appreciated; but women
out of their sphere, while their deeds may command
partial admiration, cannot be beloved or appreciated
like the former. And this is not the result of con-
ventional habits or opinions. It is a law of the
human mind, from which there can be no successful
appeal. If nature designed men and women to move
in one and the same sphere, this intuitive repug-
nance toward masculine ladies would be unknoAi.
They would rather be hailed with acclamation and
viewed with pleasure, as models for their sex.
I should not have intruded the question of we-
man's sphere upon your attention, young lady, but ,
for the claims so notoriously et up by a certain class
of modem agitators in favor of what is tecloically
called woman's rights." These invaders of ancient
ideas, who appear to regard everything as error
which has the sanction of antiquity, and everythingg
as truth which is novel, would lead you on a vain
crusade, for political, governmental and ecclesiastical
parity, wit the other se. The ballotbo, the




S.


- ;'. .1 4


TUa n snwuaZ or woMAN. I

hustinp the bar, the hab of legislation, the eoees
of-taie, the plpit, ae demanded u fitting atom
for the exercise of your talents. There ought to be
no barrier jn your way to any positionin society
whatever,'merely because you are a woman. And
you are wronged, injured and proscribed, so iong as
you are debarred, either by law or prejudice, from
entering any sphere you may prefer. Such an the
claims set up and advocated for your sex, bythose
who wou'd hava.you got a woman, but anAmmaon. .
Against these vies I know that your women's '
nature Utter sits indignant protest, which is en&od d
ith equal emphasis by your physical constuttion.
And the voice,of thit sacred charter of woman'
rights, her great emancipator, -4be Gospal of Je-
Bus Cht, supports this protest of your nature, and
rebukes the audacity of these modern innovators.
SThe Saviour, while he invited woman to iates to his
Svoice, permitted her to minister to his comfort, and
S to hover, like a angel of.love, about bi path of sor
row, never called ber to his side as an postle, nor
seat her forth a a public teacher of mankind. His
'I







'n *M YOUNG LADY'S COUNSELLO.

truth, entering her gentle spirit, added lustre to her
virtues, and consecrated her skill to deeds of mmey.
It produced a MAKr, with her meek loveliness; .a
Doacas, with her benevolent care for the poor; a
LYDiA and an ELECT LADT," with their noble hospi-
tality. It made delicate and trembling girls heroic
martyrs; but it never produced a bold declaimer, an
Amasonian disputant, nor a shameless contender for
political and ecclesiastical rights. It elevated her,
but left her in her own sphere. It increased her
influence, but it never changed her mission. Neither
does the Gospel intimate that at the climax of its
triumph it will remove her from her distinct and
appropriate sphere.
Permit me, by way of illustrating another feature
of this question, to lead you into the sitting-room of
a respectable and pious lady. She is neatly but
plainly attired, and is busy, wfth the aid of a servant,
dusting and cleaning the room. The door-bell rings,
and the girl hastens to see who is the visitor. She
finds the lady's pastor at the door,'and, without cere-
mony, here him into the sitting-room. The lady's






Tra Tsm snau or WOUan. a

faces sunased with blushes, she confusedlyys
aside her dustingbrush, add offer ber hand to the
niinister, saying, "aSir, I am ashamed you should
find me thus." "
"Let Christ, when he oometh, find me so doi*g,"
replies her pastor.
"What, sir! do you wish to be found in.this em-
ployment ? earnestly inquires the astonished lady.
"Yet, madam, I wish to be found faithfully per-
forming te. duties of my mission, as I have found
you fulfilling yours."
And was not the minister right? HO recsgniad
a great, but a despised truth. Be- saw. as high a
moral importance in the humble task of the lady as in
the missions of Gabriel to the ancient pa ets : for
both did the will of God in their respective spheres;
and diversity of sphere 'does not necessarily involve
real inferiority in the employment. The lady in her
home could exhibit an affection as true, and an obe-
"dience as sincere, as the angel in his sphere. It
would-be diffiult'to show wherein her employment
was morally and ncesearily inferior to his, inumach






88 TIH YOUNG LADY'S COUVMSLLOW.

as the ciacter of an act derives all its moral great-
ness, not from the sphere of the actor, but from its
conformity to the will of God.
Do you perceive the bearing of my illustration
upon the question of woman's sphere ? It shows you
that your sex is not necessarily inferior to the other,
because it is called, by God and nature, to act in E.
different sphere. Your exclusion from the stage of
public life does not imply your inferiority,-only the
disersi of your powers, functions and duties. In-
deed, it would defy the loftiest powers to show
wherein the work, the mission or the sphere of
woman, is a whit beneath that of ber more bustling
and prominent companion man.
What is the sphere of woman Home. The
social circle. What is her mission To mould
character,- to fashion herself and others after the
model character of Christ What are her chief
instruments for the accomplishment of her great.
work I The affections. Love is the wand oy which
she is to work moral transformations within her fairy
circle. Gentleness, sweetness, loielinss and purity,






TEn TRUK SPreIk or wou 81

a the elements of her power. Her place k-tut on
life's great battle-fields. Man belongs there. It i
for him to go forth armed for its conflict and strug
gles,.to do fierce battle with the hoss ( evils that
throng our earth and trample upon its blessings.
But woman must abide in the peaceful sanctuaries
of home, and walk in the noiseless vales of private
life. There she must dwell, beside the secret springs
of public virtue. There she mupt smile upon the
father, the brother, the husband, when, retum in like
warriors from the fight, eaustwd and covresd with
the dust of strife, they need to be refreshed by sweet
waters drawn froq affection's spring," and cheered
to renewed struggles by the music of her vote.
There she must rear the Christian patritand states-
man, the self-denying philanthropist and the obedient
citizen. There, in a word, she must form the char-
acter of the world, and determine the destiny of her
race. How awful is her mission! What dead re-
sponsibility attaches to her work! Surely she is not
degraded by filling such a sphere. Nor wold she
be elevated, if, frsking it, she should go forth into


"3W,


IV .* V- k R







W THE YOUNG LADY'S COUNBSLLOI.

th highi ys of society, and jostle with her brother
for the offices and honors of public life. Fame she
might occasionally gain, but it would be at the price
of her womanly influence.
Fancy yourself far out at sea, in a noble ship, con-
tending with a furious storm. A "war of moun-
tains" rages on the surface of the great deep;- they
seem "to swallow each other," and to "reproduce
new Alps and Andes from their monstrous depths,"
tb keep up the strife.

"Beaeath is one wild whirl of foaming surges;
Above, the arry of lightning, like the swords
Of Cherubim, wide bradished, to repel
Aglression from heaven's gates."

Behold, amidst this scene of grandeur, the stormy
petrel gliding up the face of a huge wave, darting
above the foam of a breaker, or sweeping along the
watery valleys, as composedly and as naturally as it
ever swept over the same sea in an hour of calm.
Behold, too, another bird, whirling and darting above
the spray, with a cry of seeming despair; now flying
before a monster sea, and anon struggling to keen its


..,
1 *:'







-e*
rn was semur or WOMAN. U

wet sad weary wings from folding anto*b1upless
inaction. But se! it describes your ship, and,
prompted by an instinct of selfpreservation, fies
toward 't for shelter. Alighting, it hides under the
lee of your bulwarks, in a coil of cable. Mark its
exhaustion! See how its wet breast heaves with the
violent beating of its little heart! Its fright is ex-
cessive, and it is questionable if it will recover itself
or live.
Tell me, lady, why this little trembler is in so
pitiful a plight, while the stormy petrel gambole
freely among the waves! You cannot answer.
Then listen! The petrel is in its appropriate sphere.
The little trembler is a land-bid, tempted, at fin, by
sunny weather, to wander among the islands, sad
driven,at last, by a strong wind to sea. He is out of
his sphere; and hence his quiet has fled, his song is
silenced and his life endangered. God made him
for the land; the grove is his home, and his sphere
is among the dowers.
It is thus with the entire creation. Everything
has its appointed sphere, within which alone it can


"" t*







9 TUr YOUNG LADY'S COUVNsELLR.


florish. Men and women have theirs. They ar
not exceptions to this truth, but examples of it. To
be happy and prosperous, they must abide in them.
Man is fitted for the storms of public life, and, like
the petrel, can be happy amidst their rudest surges.
Woman is formed for the calm of home. She may
venture, like the land-bird, to invade the sphere of
man, but she will encounter storms which she is
utterly unfitted to meet; happiness will forsake her
breast, her own sex will despise her, men will be un-
able to love her, and when she dies she will fill an
unhonored grave.
That great patriot, Join AnDms, paid a high com-
' pliment te the power of your sex, when, in an hour
ofdeep political gloom, he wrote the following lines
to his wife. Alluding to the attack of the British
on the city of Philadelphia, he says: "I believe the
two Howes have not very great women for their
wives; if they had, we should suffer more from their
exertions than we do. A smart wife would have
put Howe in posss'on of Philadelphia a long time
ago."




I-" .


Tas TB snOma or o WOH g

This remark of the statesman, playfauly a it i
expressed, was, nevertheless, the offspring of an
opinion which he seriously maintained concerning
the influence of women. He contended that much
of the merit of the great men, whose names are as
the roll of fame, belonged to their sisters, wives and
mothers. Hence he attributed the faults of Howe to
the lack of high merit in his wife.
Jonm QumoY ADAMS, the "old man eloquent,"
once paid the allowing precious tribute to his
mother. "It is due to gatitude and nature, that I
should acknowledge and avow that, such as I have
been, whatever it was, such as I am, whatever it is,
and such as I hope to be is a futaitkymust be
*ascribed, under Providence, to the precepts an3 as
ample of my mother."
Very similar is the confession of the celebrated
German philosopher, Kar, who says, "I shall never
forget that it was my mother who caused the good
which is in my soul to fructify."
It was to his devoted sister that the pious PAsaL
was indebted for preservation from a worldly spirit.




, -V



U TU 6OUIoG LADYT' COVUSUULL .

which at one time threatened to drag him down from
the heights of a holy experience to the depths of sin.
But for her, his light might have been quenched for.
ever.
The martyr missionary, MAitTY, was also led to
Christ by the gentle hand of his sister, who thus
called into action those mighty energies in his soul
which made his life an example of self-denying
labor.
I quote these honorable acknowledgments from
these great minds to confirm the opinion of John
Adams, and to impress it forcibly upon your heart.
You must consider them as specimen facts. Could
every great and good man arise from the dead, to
make known from whence the power came which*
called his noblest qualities into action, each would

point to a sister, wife or mother. What can ambi-
tion in a woman's heart ask more ? What if she is
forbidden to stand in the forum, to mount the ros-
trum, to enact the part of a Cicero, a Washington, a
Wesley Has she therefore nothing great in her des-
tiny Is it nothing to sit beside young, unformed


d *


*** \






an TaUR saM or wOYM. *

miellect, sad, by the skilful strokes of he chisl, giA
it such shape and beauty as shall. coul4 d thse
admiration of a world I fs-that gift to be despised
which enables a woman, with almost unerring cer-
tainty, todetermine the character of her brother, hus-
band or son? Nay! She who trains a soul to
right and noble deeds "stands higher in the scale
of benefactors than he who unshaciles a continent
from thraldom; for she adds more to the sum of
human happiness, if we estimate the effects by their
duration." *
Nor are the pleasures of success less delightful in
a woman's breast, because she attains it through an-
other. If a rich tide of joy flows through the breast
O f an applauded hero, a triumphant statesman or a
useful philanthropist, there is another equally de-
lightful in the bosom of the woman who is conscious
that, but for her, the great man would never have
mounted the pedestal of his greatness.
Behold, for an example, a splendid scene enacted
-at the close of the Revolutionary war. COr.nwALLu
*ee Chalmn' Memoirs, yd. i., p 4s.




'B


<'1







TEA YOUNG tAUT' COORSSLL4O.


sad his army had been captured. The Revolutimo
wasmr cessful. The great chiefs and dffcen of te
Vito6rious armies were assembled at a festival in
honor of their victory. The spacious saloon w
crowded. There were those chivalrous Frenchmen,
in their gorgeous uniforms, who, at the cry of liberty.
had braely rushed to arms, and whose valor had
bee proved id many a hard-fought field. There
were thoes sturdy continentals, whose daring cour-
age ad unconquerable spirit had triumphed ovek t
the disciplined bravery of their English opponents.
There, also, were the women, the matrons that
heroic age, with their blushing daughters, all radiant
with the sunny spirit of joy which reigned through-
nut that brilliant assembly.
Presently the doors of the saloon open to admit a
personage, whose entrance awakens universal atten-
tion. His figure is noble and commanding; his bear-
ing dignified, without harghtiness; his expression/
lofty, but mild. He treads thefiodr with unaffected,
yet unsurpassed majesty. His presence kindles every'
eye and heart with the ardor of rapturous enthusiasm.





I

'.T-mA-*rl oe omuA.

It is reaudd w wT nO=, yet wi&SdArb -
as a superior,ad yet asM fjien He fto
ther gae the rare sight f a Christian solddiwt
'ah. ntmbitioup stataUn. 'He coabmin in mlm f
the daring of a Caur with the caute of*a Fies-,
the patriotim of a Regulus and the -irt4 t a
Cincinnatus. He is the mas whose endaiprg foti
trade, military prowea, and overawin infliee; he,
sustained the spirit of the Betolation~ crqped it with
success, and earned for himself the f gioq. Prer
nence of being the "first it wr, filt .l peas, ad.
first in the hearts of his pe itrymen-Att that
sonage wau Gulm".WAUiMre "
Never, perhaps, was homagel mor iek ly, r *
rtily rendered to a man than by the Uiee al3'
beautiful in that hall; and nwor was it lie.
served. Nor is it possible to aboejve of a punr,
Sweater human joy, than that whMi stakr*
bosom.
.. The was anohei4 however, that shared i
.,e homage and tdie jp f that occaosi Leariag
f the imaof the here, in simt atelias of inl, ,
5
*-






4B Tu roue L4r's COU' SLLOU .

*there waIld MArT, Tra Momra orriWamerom
Sha had trained him in his boyhood,--taught him
th principles and developed the qualities which lay
at the-foundation of his greatness. It was her hands
which had moulded his character to symmetry and'
moral beauty. Her prayers, her influence, and
her instructions, bad repressed and restrained the
growth of evil qualities, and cultivated that divine
life in his soul, which led him to take counsel of the
God of battles- the Governor of nations. Her
early influence over her glorious son was well under-
stood, and silently acknowledged, in that gayasamn-
bly. Yeaher son bad owned it,--was proud of it.
He laid his lofty honors at her feet, and prized her
smile above the noisy voices of fame. Did she
experience a pleasure aught inferior to his I
shall decide which bosom was the happiest on that
triumphant dcy l The joy of Washington was
qmat;.the joy of his mother was, at least, equal.
Would she have accorashed more, or tasted a
sweeter pleasure, if, forsaking her sphere, she had..
mingled directly in councils of the states n tl




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