Essays addressed to young married women

Table of contents

- [dedication]

- [titlepage]

- INTRODUCTION.

- RELIGION.

- CONJUGAL AFFECTION.

- TEMPER.

- NEATNESS.

- DOMESTIC AMUSEMENT.

- FRIENDSHIP.

- PARENTAL and FILIAL AFFECTION.

- OECONOMY.

- CONCLUSION.

ESSAYS ADDRESSED TO YOUNG MARRIED WOMEN.

FINIS.

THE FOLLOWING ESSAYS ARE (BY PERMISSION) MOST HUMBLY INSCRIBED TO HER MAJESTY, BY HER MOST DUTIFUL, LOYAL, AND OBEDIENT SUBJECT, The AUTHOR.

ESSAYS, ADDRESSED TO YOUNG MARRIED WOMEN.

" Seek to be good, but aim not to be great;

" A Woman's noblest station is retreat;

" Her fairest virtues fly from public sight,

" Domestic worth, that shuns too strong a light."

Lord LYTTELTON.

LONDON: Printed for T. CADELL, in the Strand; and J. ROBSON, in New Bond-Street. MDCCLXXXII.

INTRODUCTION.

ALMOST every moral Writer or Essayist that I have happened to meet with, from the days of Solomon to the present aera, have complained of the profligacy and degeneracy of their Times. From hence we are led to believe, that folly and vice have been equally prevalent in all ages, and that there is no such period to be found in the annals of Human Nature, as that Golden Age in which Wisdom and Virtue dwelt with Men.

THAT perfection is not the lot of mortals, I readily admit, and cannot therefore prefume to point out the exact modes of any particular period of time as objects of general imitation; but without venturing to oppose my slight opinion against the common and willingly-received adage, that the world is just as good as it was a thousand years ago, I will pronounce, that though Virtue and Vice may have travelled progressively upon the same scale since the Creation to this day, the influence of Folly, and her inseparable companions Vanity and Dissipation, have, within the present century, been extended in Britain to a degree not only unknown to, but inconceivable by, our Ancestors.

THE chief causes of this sad effect, we are told, originate in the improper plan of education which has been adopted for our young Ladies. But as new and useful lights have been thrown upon this subject by abler pens than mine, particularly by those two excellent and elegant Writers Mrs. CHAPONE and Miss MORE, I shall not dwell upon it; but mean humbly to offer my sentiments to those of my sex who, having passed through the restraints necessarily imposed on youth, are ready to launch into the tempestuous ocean of life, without any chart to sail by but their native innocence and unsuspecting chearfulness.

WHILE they preserve the first, they will not strike against the rock most fatal to their peace; but grant they should escape that imminent danger, there are a thousand hidden shoals within this stormy sea, where female happiness may suffer wreck. From these it is my most earnest wish to save them, and send them floating down the stream of Time loaded with days and honour.

AS it is generally supposed that a thorough knowledge of the art we mean to teach is indispensably necessary in every science, the Author of the following Essays, with the truest gratitude to the Almighty for such an inestimable blessing, presumes to hope, that after thirty years of uninterrupted happiness in the marriage-state, she may be deemed qualified, at least as far as experience can direct, to speak upon the most interesting of all earthly subjects to those who are but entering on that state of probation, wherein a strict adherence to its delightful duties must lead to the final reward of happiness here and hereafter.

RELIGION.

FROM the time that a Woman enters into the holy and honourable state of matrimony, she becomes accountable for her conduct both towards God and Man. Separated from the fostering care of tender and indulgent parents, who have hitherto directed her footsteps in the way that she should walk, and left to chuse her path amidst the stormy or the flowery way, where shall she find a clue to direct her inexperience through the labyrinth that now lies before her? One unerring guide remains, which if she truly seeks, "his word will be a lanthorn to her feet, and a light unto her paths;" and when her father and her mother forsake her, "he will take her up."

AS the spring to the year, so is youth to the soul, the season of blooming virtue; without blossoms there can be no fruit, and the barren mind that is not early imbued with the knowledge of the love of God, which alone constitutes our happiness here, and our hopes hereafter, will seek in vain for the delight it yields in those maturer days, when worldly cares and disappointments have soured the natural benevolence of the heart, and rendered it callous to the refined feelings of sensibility.

ZEAL without knowledge is the parent of bigotry; and bigotry is too often the adopted religion of wrinkles and grey hairs. From hence it sometimes happens, that devotion assumes the mask of austerity, which, by concealing the beauty of holiness, must rather deter than invite the inexperienced mind from entering into that service "which is perfect freedom; whose ways are ways of pleasantness, and whose paths are those of peace."

BUT whilst the blessings and pleasures of youth flow around us, the heart must naturally be expanded with gratitude; gratitude produces praise, and praise is surely the most acceptable sacrifice that a human creature can offer to the great Author of good. But, alas! surrounded by the delights of life, we too frequently become forgetful of the source from whence they are derived; and whilst we are indulging all our appetites in the delicious stream of happiness, it becomes impregnated with the qualities of Lethé, and renders us unmindful of its fountain.

LET then the sensible and innocent Bride "remember her Creator in the days of her youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh when she shall say, I have no pleasure in them[*]." Doctor Young says, "The whole creation cannot furnish a more lovely sight, than a beautiful young woman upon her knees addressing her Maker in fervent prayer;" and if I might presume to add my sentiments, I would say, that it is a sight at which men and angels should rejoice.

EVERY young and innocent woman must necessarily feel a painful diffidence on her first entrance into the bustle of life. A thorough sense of religion alone can dispel her apprehensions, give calmness to her mind, and steadiness to her conduct. For while we consider ourselves under the immediate guidance and protection of an all-wise and all-powerful Being, what have we to fear? True confidence arises from such a dependence, and fills the mind with "that sweet peace which goodness bosoms ever."

MR. ADDISON very justly observes, "That a mind which has the least turn to religion, naturally flies to it in affliction." We then begin to feel our own insufficiency, we are humbled by sorrow, and perhaps only then deduce real satisfaction from a thorough conviction that there is a superior Being, whose aid is graciously promised to those who sincerely seek it.

BUT though

" Religion's force divine is best display'd

" In a desertion of all human aid,"

we must by no means presume to hope for the consolation it can bestow in the days of affliction, if we have neglected to receive and submit to its legislative authority in the hours of youth and prosperity.
"You must first apply to it as the guide of life, before you can have recourse to it as the refuge of sorrow[*]."
But if labouring under the severest ills which this world can inflict, we can truly say, I have endeavoured to do my duty in the state I have been called to, I have walked humbly with my God, have made my peace with him, and patiently submit to his all-wise decrees; "such reflections will chear the lonely house of virtuous poverty, soothe the complaints of grief, lighten the pressure of old age, and furnish to the bed of sickness a cordial of more grateful relish and more sovereign virtue, than any which this world can afford[*]."

THOUGH the motives which I have hitherto urged for an early attachment to our religious duties seem only to relate to the happy individual who, like Solomon, "has sought Wisdom early, and found her," there can be no doubt of the innumerable benefits which society must reap, as far as her influence extends, from the conduct and example of a truly religious woman. In whatever point of view she may be placed, as Daughter, Wife, Mother, Sister, or Friend, the governing principle of her life, the love of God, will operate upon her conduct in the relative duties of her station, and render that perfect in each and every degree.

I CANNOT conclude this important subject, without presenting to my fair Readers that elegant portrait which the wisest of men and divinest of poets has given them, of one whom they should endeavour to imitate, if they desire to attain happiness and honour in this life, and everlasting felicity in that to come:

"WHO can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.

"THE heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.

"SHE layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff.

"SHE stretcheth out her hand to the poor, yea, she stretcheth forth her hands to the needy.

"STRENGTH and honour are her clothing, and she shall rejoice in time to come.

"SHE openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue is the law of kindness.

"SHE looketh well to the ways of her houshold, and eateth not the bread of idleness.

"HER children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.

"MANY daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.

"FAVOUR is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but the woman that feareth the Lord she shall be praised[*]."

Notes

*
Ecclesiastes, chap. xii. ver. 1.
↵

*
Dr. Blair's Sermons.
↵

*
Dr. Blair's Sermons.
↵

*
Proverbs, chap. xxxi.
↵

CONJUGAL AFFECTION.

" Hail Wedded Love, mysterious law, true source

" Of human offspring, sole propriety

" In Paradise of all things common else!

" By thee adulterous Lust was driven from men,

" Among the bestial herds to range; by thee

" Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure,

" Relations dear, and all the charities

" Of Father, Son, and Brother, first were known."

AS the union of hearts is universally allowed to be the bond of marriage, so the entering into such a connection without possessing the essence or first principle on which it should be founded, must render the ceremony of none effect, and can in reason and equity only be considered as a state of legal prostitution. To speak of conjugal felicity to the wretched victims of parental authority, of avarice, or poverty, would be absurd or cruel, as they must either be incapable of forming an idea of it, or doomed for ever to lament its loss.

I THEREFORE, in this section, particularly address myself to the happy few whom Love unites in Hymen's rosy bands, and profess to teach the art of making their happiness as permanent as the instability of mere mortal natures will admit of.

LOVE is a term so very vague and indiscriminate, as it is generally applied, that it would be extremely difficult to investigate its nature from its effects, in any other case but that of marriage; as the modes, perhaps, of feeling, or at least of expressing it, vary, according to the temper, manner, or situation, of each individual who either feels or feigns the passion.

BUT Conjugal Affection is by no means subject to such equivocal appearances; it is tenderness heightened by passion, and strengthened by esteem. It is unmixed with any selfish or sensual allay, tending solely to promote the happiness of its object here and hereafter.

SUCH an elevated state of happiness as must result from the affection I have described, when mutual, must surely be the acmé of human felicity. But, as the point of perfection is that of declension also, it will require much pains, but they are pleasing ones, to make the ever-turning wheel of sublunary bliss keep steady to the summit it has reached, or at least to prevent its rolling down the rugged precipice where jealousy, disgust, and grief, have marked the horrid road.

THE disappointments of human life must ever be proportioned to the extravagance of our expectations. Too great an ardour to be blessed is frequently the source of misery. A life of transport is not the lot of mortals. While we accept, we should chastise our joys, "lest while we clasp we kill them."

THAT concord of souls which constitutes the happiness of marriage, like a full concert, requires all the parts obliged to fill their several stations in perfect time and place; for though the heart may lead the band, and set out in perfect harmony, one jarring note destroys the rapturous strain, and turns the whole to discord. For this reason, I consider a parity of understanding and temper to be as necessary towards forming an happy marriage, as an equality of years, rank and fortune.

BUT grant these circumstances all conjoin and make the union perfect, remember, my fair Friends, satiety succeeds to rapture, as sure as night to day. Be it your province, then, to keep your husband's heart from sinking into the incurable disease of tasteless apathy. Do not rely too much upon your personal charms, however great, to preserve the conquest they may have gained.

BY a proper attention to your husband, you will easily discover the bent of his genius and inclinations. To that turn all your thoughts, and let your words and actions solely tend to that great point. The kindness of your attention will awaken his, and gratitude will strengthen his affection, imperceptibly even to himself.

OUR first Parent justifies his fondness for Eve, to Raphael, upon this principle:

" Neither her outside formed so fair, &c.

" So much delights me, as those graceful acts,

" Those thousand decencies, that daily flow

" From all her words and actions mixed with love,

" And sweet compliance, which declare unfeigned

" Union of mind, or in us both one soul;

" Harmony to behold in wedded pair,

" More grateful than harmonious sound to the ear."

IN an age like this, when we may suppose that every young Lady deserves the epithet with which Adam addresses his wife, Accomplished Eve, it must be less difficult than it might have been for their female ancestors, to secure the affections of a husband already prepossessed in their favour. Let them but exert the same talents, with the same desire of pleasing, which they shewed before marriage, and I venture to pronounce that they will succeed.

A LOVE of power and authority is natural to men; and wherever this inclination is most indulged, will be the situation of their choice. Every man ought to be the principal object of attention in his family; of course he should feel himself happier at home than in any other place. It is, doubtless, the great business of a woman's life to render his home pleasing to her husband; he will then delight in her society, and not seek abroad for alien amusements. A husband may, possibly, in his daily excursions, see many women whom he thinks handsomer than his wife; but it is generally her fault if he meet with one that he thinks more amiable. A desire of pleasing very rarely fails of its effect; but in a wife, that desire must be managed with the nicest delicacy; it should appear rather in the result, than in the design; "not obvious, not obtrusive." These petits soins are the best supplement to our great duties, and render the commerce of life delightful. Like an elegant dessert, they complete the feast, and leave not a wish unsatisfied.

WE have hitherto looked only on the pleasing side of the tapestry, and seen Marriage in its most favourable light. Let us now turn the canvas, and take a view of its defects.

LET us suppose, then, what I think the worst of all situations, an amiable young woman possessing the tenderest affection for her husband, while he, from the natural depravity and inconstancy of his nature, has withdrawn his love from her, and perhaps bestowed it on some unworthy object, to whom he devotes his time and fortune.

IN such a state of wretchedness what line shall our neglected wife pursue? The first step that I would recommend to her, is, that of entering into a serious, strict, and impartial review of her own conduct, even to the minutiae of her dress, and the expressions of her looks, from the first of her acquaintance of her husband. If, after such examination, she cannot discover any fault in her manners that might have given offence, or created disgust, let her steadily pursue the same behaviour she has hitherto practised; for, if that be totally free from error, it is impossible that any alteration can give an additional efficacy to it. For to resent, or to retaliate, neither her duty, nor her religion will permit.

"To carry smiles upon the face, when discontentent sits brooding at the heart," is, I confess, one of the most difficult tasks that can possibly be imposed on an ingenuous and feeling soul. But a thorough conviction that it is her province to endeavour to recal the wanderer back, for his own happiness, as well as her's, and a certainty that there are no other means of accomplishing so desirable an end, will enable her to pursue this arduous undertaking, till either her heart shall rejoice in its success, or from reiterated disappointments become indifferent to the worthless object of its former esteem and attention.

GRANTING the last to be the case, she has a right to expect the good opinion of the world will attend her conduct: but an higher and more certain reward awaits it; self-approbation, arising from a consciousness of having fulfilled her duty, and an assurance of having essayed the only method that was likely to insure success: for never yet was love recalled by lamentations or upbraidings. The first may sometimes, perhaps, create pity, but oftener begets contempt; and the latter never did, nor can produce any passion but instant rage, or cool determined hate.

RECOLLECTION may furnish to my fair Readers many instances where patient sufferings have been rewarded with returning love; but I think there is scarcely one to be met with, where female violence has ever conquered male outrage; or where dissipation and coquetry, though they may have alarmed the pride, ever reclaimed the alienated affections of a husband.

TRUE love, like true virtue, shrinks not on the first attack; it will bear many shocks before it be entirely vanquished. As it contends not for victory, but for the prize, it will not display itself in the vain arts of elocution, but in the more powerful eloquence of action; it will leave nothing undone that can prove its sincerity, but it will not boast, even to its object, of what it has done; much less will it vaunt its merits to any other confidant, or complain to the world of the unkind return it has met with.

THERE are such a variety of circumstances which may disturb the happiness of the marriage-state, that it is impossible to specify them all; but as a virtuous woman will consider the loss of her husband's affection as the greatest calamity that can befal her, her duty and prudence will, before the evil happens, upon every occasion supply rules of conduct to herself; and the reliance she will necessarily have upon the tenderness of his attachment to her, joined to the sincerity of her's to him, will support her through every difficulty which accident, misfortune, or even imprudence, may have brought upon them. She will say, with Prior's Emma,

Thy rise of fortune did I only •…d,

From its decline determined to recede;

Did I but purpose to embark with thee,

On the smooth surface of a summer's sea,

While gentle zephyrs play in prosperous gales,

And Fortune's favour fills the swelling sails,

But would forsake the bark and make the shore,

When the winds whistle, and the tempests roar?

No, Henry, no! one sacred oath has tyed

Our loves, one destiny our lives shall guide,

Nor wild, nor deep, our common way divide.

THIS is the natural language of conjugal affection, this the fulfilling of the marriage vow, where self is lost in a still dearer object, where tenderness is heightened by distress, and attachment cemented even by the tears of sorrow. Such an union of souls may brave the power of Time; and I trust, that Death itself shall not be able to destroy it.

TEMPER.

IT has been already remarked, that a parity of temper is one of the principal requisites in matrimonial happiness; and yet it is possible that too great a similarity of disposition may, in some cases, render both parties wretched. For instance, if two persons of a gay and careless turn of mind should happen to be united, both will think themselves entitled to pursue their joint or separate amusements, without being encumbered with any attention to domestic oeconomy, till even the necessary means for their support may be irretrievably lavished away.

AGAIN, should two persons of a saturnine complexion be joined in the indissoluble bond of marriage, the natural gloominess of their dispositions will be increased by each other's converse; melancholy will become habitual, and care be heightened to despondency.

" Not minds of melancholy strain,

" Still silent, or that still complain,

" Can the dear bondage bless;

" As well may heavenly concerts spring

" From two old lutes with ne'er a string,

" Or none besides the bass.

" Nor can the soft enchantment hold

" Two jarring souls of angry mold,

" The rugged and the keen;

" Sampson's young foxes might as well

" In bands of chearful wedlock dwell,

" With firebrands tied between."

FROM these examples it is obvious, that a similitude of dispositions alone, though a strong incentive to affection, will not always ensure matrimonial felicity. And yet I am perfectly convinced, that wherever there is any material different eof sentiments or manners, there never was, or will be, a happy marriage. We naturally admire those we love, and as naturally imitate what we admire. The similarity that arises from conformity, and a desire to please, has a superior charm to that which is merely complexional. To adopt the sentiments of a person is the most delicate proof of approbation and esteem; and perhaps the compliment is valued by our self-love, in proportion to the sacrifice which has been made of an opposite way of thinking.

THAT conformity of manners, as far as religion and reason will permit, is one of the indispensible duties of a Wife, will not, I believe, be denied by any one. But there are Ladies who have an art of letting their condescension appear too strongly in the act, as if submitting to the impositions of a tyrant, rather than chearfully fulfilling the obligation they had entered into at the altar—to love, honour, and obey.

THE same words or actions, expressed or performed in a gracious or ungracious manner, may produce effects as different as Love and Hate. I would, therefore, recommend it to the candidates for happiness in the marriage-state, to sacrifice to the Graces, in their conjugal demeanour, as sincerely as they do at their toilets; for good-breeding is as necessary to the preservation of domestic harmony, as it can possibly be to the general intercourse and commerce of life.

SOLOMON, in his description of a virtuous woman, before quoted, has furnished us with the finest idea that ever was given, of a wife's address to her husband. "She openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue is the law of kindness." And surely there exists not a being, under the form of man, who could reject such an address with scorn or insolence.

WE should, however, take particular care to time our conversation with our husbands, and neither idly obtrude upon their serious hours of business or retirement, nor hastily mistake that reserve or gloom which may arise from difficulties in their affairs, abroad, for ill-temper or disgust, at home.

IT is the duty of a wife not only to regulate her own Temper towards her husband, but also to pay such an attention to his, as may prevent it, from ever appearing in a disagreeable light. By studiously observing the proper seasons for the different subjects on which she may have occasion to address him, she may, imperceptibly to him, and almost to herself, obtain the power of guiding his concurrence or denial.

A SENSIBLE and virtuous woman, pursuing such a line of conduct for the mutual advantage of her husband and family, without any selfish views, which only little minds are capable of, comes nearest to the idea that mortals are taught to conceive of a Guardian Angel, who, unseen, directs our doubtful choice to what is best, and leads our erring steps into the paths of happiness and peace.

I HAVE hitherto considered this great article of Temper, only in one point of view, merely as it relates to the colloquial intercourse between a wedded pair. I come now to shew, that its influence is universally extensive; and that it is one of the main springs which guides or deranges the human machine, through every station and situation of life.

AN unmarried woman is very rarely said to be ill-tempered; and yet there are such prodigies in nature as young vixens, who, however they may conceal their ill-humour from their lovers and general acquaintance, will surely betray it to their parents, inmates, and servants. "A little lump leaveneth the whole," and a peevish maiden will infallibly make a cross wife; for, when once a sourness of disposition becomes habitual, there is no alkaline in nature sufficiently powerful to correct the heart-burnings and bitterness of a dissatisfied Temper. A person so affected, like one infected with the plague, necessarily spreads the contagion of discontent around her. Her parents lament the badness of her disposition; her other relations and connections are sensible of aversion, instead of affection, towards her; and her servants regret that the irksomeness of servitude is aggravated by receiving their subsistence from a tyrant, whom they can neither please, respect, or love.

AS gravity, which is sometimes but another name for dullness, has been frequently mistaken for wisdom, so is chearfulness often accepted for good-humour. But that species of chearfulness which we meet with in society, that laughs in the eye, and lights up the countenance, generally proceeds rather from an ebullition of the spirits, than a designed and consistent exertion of our powers to please, and is more frequently the result of a lively than a placid disposition. As it flows from an accidental cause, its effects must necessarily be precarious; it is, therefore, subject to causeless and sudden dejection, to which habitual good-humour is by no means liable.

DISTINCT as these two qualities are, they have yet one property common to both, and at the same time different from what can be imputed to any other happy endowment; which is, that they are most meritorious where they are least natural. An ideot may be constitutionally good-humoured, and a villain be chearful, from a glow of health or a flow of spirits; but that species of good-humour which is the result of sense, virtue, and gratitude to Providence, will be uniform in its appearance, and consistent in its manners; it will not, like an April day, lour and shine almost in the same moment; nor, like the flaming heats of July, will the brightness of the meridian sun foretel the approaching thun¦der; but clear, calm, and undisturbed, shall it shine on even to its latest hour.

SUCH a blessed state of mind must necessarily communicate the happiness it feels to all around it. "Like the smooth stream, it reflects every object in its just proportion, and in its fairest colours; while the turbulent and ruffled spirit, like troubled waters, renders back the images of things distorted and broken, and communicates to them all that disordered motion which arises solely from its own agitation[*]."

THIS beautiful simile has a double claim to female attention; for rage, jealousy, or any other ungentle passion, deform the fairest face almost as much as they degrade the mind, and "can unsex the loveliest of the lovely kind, e'en from the top to toe."

BUT there is a higher and a stronger motive than any I have yet mentioned for "possessing our souls in gentleness," if we presume to call ourselves Christians. Shall the disciple of a suffering Saviour dare to resent with furious outrage the real or imaginary injuries she may receive? Or can she kneel before the throne of Mercy, and supplicate the God of Peace and Good-will to Man, for pardon or protection, while her heart is agitated with a spirit of malice or revenge towards a fellow-creature frail as her wretched self? This were an insult upon piety, a mockery of devotion!

WE are assured that God rejects the proud, and that an humble and a contrite heart are precious in his sight. Shall we then cast away the heart-felt transport of thinking ourselves under the guidance and protection of an Almighty Providence, to sacrifice to Moloch? and give away the birth-right of the redeemed, for the sad privilege of torturing ourselves? For Providence has wisely ordained, that all the malevolent passions of the human breast should prey upon their possessors. Peace never dwelt with envy, rage, or hate.

AS marriage, among Christians, is of divine institution, all married persons should consider a proper conduct towards each other, as the fulfilling of a religious duty. To promote harmony, peace, order, and happiness, in their families, is the mutual and undoubted obligation both of man and wife. This rule once established and reduced to practice, even libertines will own that marriage is the happiest state on earth; but when the fiends of discord, rage, confusion, and misery, usurp the place of those dear Houshold Gods, their very opposites, we must agree with Dr. Tillotson, and own that such a state is but "a lesser hell, in passage to the greater."

BE it your care, then, my gentle and much-interested Readers, to reverse this sad idea, and by the mildness of your manners, and the sweetness of your tempers, render the marriage-state a lesser heaven, in passage to the greater.

Notes

*
Dr. BLAIR.
↵

NEATNESS.

NEATNESS is the offspring of Decency, and the parent of Elegance; and to her, perhaps, are my fair countrywomen more indebted for the power of making and preserving their conquests, than to any other of those numerous charms which they possess in common with the rest of their sex.

AT this polished era, when elegance, at least as far as it relates to form and dress, seems to be elevated almost into a science, which is become more the object of study and attention than any of those which are to be found in the Encyclopedia, it may seem superfluous to say much upon the subject of this chapter; but though I should wish neatness and elegance to be ever united, yet I would not, by any means, have them confounded together, as they certainly are as distinct, as light and shade in painting; and like them too, when happily combined, they mutually reflect grace on each other, while the charming result of both, amounts to "something than beauty more."

IN the beginning of this almost finished century, the most refined Moralist of his age or nation told his fair cotemporaries, that "wrapping-gowns and dirty linen were the bane of conjugal love[*]." Yet in those days our grandmothers might possibly have thought they dressed as elegantly as the present race of young women imagine they do now. But then, less enlightened than their happier descendants, they might vainly presume, that the brilliancy of their charms, when heightened by dress, and animated by the gaiety of an opera or a ball, could efface the disgust which a husband might have conceived from the indelicacy of their appearance in their own apartments. How vain, indeed, must such an idea seem to us, who know that disgust is, perhaps, the only unconquerable sentiment of the human mind, and that it can never be detached from the unfortunate object which has once inspired it! The application of this knowledge is too obvious to need any comment.

THE qualities of Neatness extend much farther than to the exterior, or even the interior of dress: the house as well as person, nay the mind, of an accomplished woman should be regulated by the same spirit; for it is very possible to meet with a littered head though bien coiffée, and a slatternly mind in a very elegant form.

NEATNESS is to the person what purity is to the mind. In many instances they are so perfectly analogous, that they seem to be rather a simple than a complex idea. But though their qualities appear so very similar, they are, alas! at sometimes disunited. They have, however, one striking characteristic common to both, which is, that art will, upon examination, be always found deficient to imitate their unaffected excellence.

I SHALL conclude these few imperfect hints with Lord Lyttelton's beautiful lines upon the same subject:

" Do thou, my Fair, endeavour to possess

" An elegance of mind as well as dress," &c.

Notes

*
Addison.
↵

DOMESTIC AMUSEMENT.

VARIETY is, in general, the very essence of amusement. How then is it possible to fix an idea which exists but in change? or how define a term, the meaning of which may be understood so differently by different persons?

YET still every human mind requires relaxation, and amusement will be sought, and should be found, by persons of every condition in life. Those whom Providence has placed in elevated situations of rank or fortune, have undoubtedly an infinite advantage over their inferiors, in this article, as a proper and liberal education must have afforded them an early taste for two of the most elegant amusements that can be enjoyed, namely, Reading and Music. Whoever has felt the charms of these delightful avocations, will never be subject to that miserable complaint called Ennui, nor lament the want of company or employment for a few hours in any part of a short day, for such the longest will seem to those who can so well employ it.

DRAWING and Painting are also delightful resources to those whom favouring Genius has led to such sweet arts; but talents for these are rare, and those who are so peculiarly gifted, should be particularly grateful for such rare endowments.

BUT besides these inexhaustible funds of rational amusement, there are still an infinite number of minor resources, which may afford us occupations sufficient to combat the tediousness of life, even supposing it to be passed in solitude. The great variety of needleworks, which the ingenious women of other countries, as well as of our own, have invented, will furnish us with constant and amusing employment; and though our labours of the loom may not equal a MINERVA's, or an AYLESBURY's, yet if they unbend the mind by fixing its attention on the progress of any elegant or imitative art, they answer the purpose of domestic amusement; and when the higher duties of our situation do not call forth our exertion, we may feel the satisfaction of knowing that we are, at least, innocently employed.

WHILE under the influence of this calm sentiment, we shall be less apt to rush into the torrent of dissipation, where conjugal happiness is too frequently lost, or, at least, endangered, by the poisonous gales of flattery, which, though breathed from coxcombs whom we may in our hearts despise, will in some sort render us despicable; for no woman listens to adulation whose vanity is not flattered bity.

BUT there is still another danger, from which constant and innocent amusement may help to preserve us; I mean the destructive vortex of a Gaming-table, where every soft and feminine grace is swallowed up by Avarice; where our internal peace must necessarily be destroyed by the anxious solicitude of hope and fear, which can only terminate in the most painful of all feelings to an ingenuous mind, the consciousness of having voluntarily erred.

AS the world is at present constituted, it is almost impossible for any person who mixes with it to avoid play; and cards, as a mere amusement, may sometimes be deemed an innocent one. Conversation is not to be met with in large and mixed companies; and a card-table, considered as an universal leveller, may have its use, by placing the weak and timid on a par with the most lively and overbearing. But in order to render play what it should be, an amusement merely, a line must be drawn by the circumstances of each individual, with regard to the expence: for

" What's in the Captain but a choleric word,

" Is in the Soldier downright blasphemy."

There can be, therefore, but one general rule devised, which is, never to play for more than you can afford to lose, without breaking in upon the necessary claims of your family, your dress, or your charities. I shall only add, that those who engage at play on any other terms than what I have mentioned, will soon discover that they have exchanged their down for thorns; and will, perhaps, too late remember the just picture which Mr. POPE has drawn of those unhappy female beings who pass, not spend, a life of idleness and dissipation.

" Mark how the world its veterans rewards,

" A youth of frolic, an old age of cards;

" Fair to no purpose, artful to no end,

" Young without lovers, old without a friend," &c.

FRIENDSHIP.

THE Antients ranked Friendship in the second class of human virtues; and many are the instances recorded in history, where its energy has produced effects almost divine. Considered in its perfect strength and beauty, it certainly is the most sublime, because the least selfish, affection of the soul.

HONOUR is its very essence; courage, frankness, and generosity, its unalienable properties. Such is the idea delivered down to us of this noble sentiment, by its cotemporary writers, "who together flourished, and together fell:" for some centuries have elapsed, since this exalted phoenomenon has deigned to appear among the degenerate Sons of Men; and, like a mutilated statue, it is now become rather an object of admiration to a few virtuosi in philosophy, than a subject for general emulation.

MONTAIGNE, amongst the Moderns, seems to have felt a stronger emanation of this virtue, than any Author I am acquainted with; and tho' the utmost stretch of his warm imagination gives us but a faint ray of its ancient lustre, yet even this slight resemblance appears too strong for our weak eyes, and seems rather to dazzle than attract our regards.

OUR cotemporary, Dr. YOUNG, has left us several very beautiful descriptions of Friendship, which, though deficient of that fire which not only blazed but burned in this ancient virtue, are, however, sufficient to form both our theory and our practice upon.

" True Friendship warms, it raises, it transports,

" Like music pure the joy, without allay,

" Whose very rapture is tranquillity."

This is a very pleasing and just description of Friendship in the abstract; but it wants that energy which particular attachments add to all our sentiments, and without which, like a winter's sun, they shine, but do not warm.

THE same Author has given us a more interesting, tho', perhaps, less elevated idea of this affection of the mind, in his address to a particular person:

" Lorenzo, pride suppress, nor hope to find

" A Friend, but what has found a Friend in thee."

THIS is a new, and I think a just, light in which we may consider this sentiment; for though love may be formed without sympathy, Friendship never can. It is, even in its degenerate state, an affection that cannot subsist in vicious minds; and among the most virtuous, it requires a parity of sentiment, manners, and rank, for its basis. Of all the nice ties and dependencies which constitute the happiness or misery of life, it is the most delicate, and even the most fragile. Wealth cannot purchase, nor gifts ensure, its permanence. "The chirping of birds in cages bears as much resemblance to the vocal music of the woods, as bought courtesies to real friendship." The Great, alas! rarely enjoy this blessing; vanity and emulation prevent its growth among equals; and the humiliating condescension with which superiors sometimes deign to affect Friendship for their inferiors, strikes at the very foundation of the sentiment; from which there can only arise a tottering superstructure, whose pillars, like those of modern composition, bear the gloss, but want the durable quality of the mental marble, sincerity. Yet there have been instances, though rare, of real Friendship between persons of different ranks in life, particularly Henry the Fourth and Sully; but the virtues of the latter placed him on a level with Monarchs, and the magnanimity of the former made him sensible of their equality.

YET how often are complaints uttered by disappointed pride, against the ingratitude of those whom they have honoured with the title of Friend, nay, and have even served and obliged as such; without reflecting that obligations to a generous mind are insults, when accompanied with the least slight or mortification.

ON the other hand we, perhaps, too willingly attach ourselves to our superiors. Our self-love is flattered by their approbation, as it naturally imagines it can only be for our good and amiable qualities that they like or distinguish us. But tho' "love, like death, makes all distinction void," Friendship has no such levelling power. Superiority of rank or fortune is generally felt by the person who possesses either; and they are entitled to some degree of praise, if they do not make others feel it also.

LET those, then, who have delicate minds, remember that equality is the true basis of Friendship; let them set a just value on their own worth, as well as on the inebriating smiles of greatness, and not expose their sensibility to the pangs it must sustain, on discovering that neither virtues or talents can always keep the scale of Friendship steady, when opposed to the adventitious circumstances of high birth, or great fortune.

THUS far my remarks upon this subject are general. Let me now apply them to their use for whom this little work is peculiarly designed, by earnestly recommending it to every young married woman to seek the friend of her heart in the husband of her affection. There, and there only, is that true equality, both of rank and fortune, strengthened by mutual interests and cemented by mutual pledges, to be found. There only condescensions will not mortify, as they will be concessions but of kindness, not of pride. There, and there only, will she be sure to meet with reciprocal confidence, unfeigned attachment, and tender solicitude, to soothe her every care. The ties of wedded love will be rivetted by the bands of Friendship; the virtues of her mind, when called sorth by occasion, will unfold themselves by degrees to her husbands perception, like the opening rose before the morning ray; and when its blooming colour fades upon her cheek, its sweetness shall remain within the very foldings of his heart, from recollection of her sense and worth. Happy are the pairs so joined; yea, blessed are they who are thus doubly united!

AS the word Friendship is at present generally understood to be a term of little import, or at most that extends merely to a preference of liking, or esteem; I would by no means exclude my fair Readers from that kind of commerce which is now accepted under that title, in society. But even this sort of connection requires much caution in the choice of its object; for I should wish it might be restrained to one; and that one ought to obtain this preference, from the qualities of the heart rather than those of the head. A long and intimate acquaintance can alone discover the former; the latter are easily and willingly displayed; for love without esteem is as a shower, soon spent. The head is the spring of affections, but the heart is the reservoir.

FOR this reason, it always appears to me a proof of mutual merit, when two sisters, or two young women, who have been brought up together, are strongly attached to each other; and I will admit, that while they remain unmarried, such a connection is capable of forming a pure and disinterested friendship, provided that the sympathy of their affections does not tend to make them like or admire the same male object; for though Love may, Friendship cannot exist with jealousy.

" Reserve will wound it, and distrust destroy."

THAT great master of the human heart SHAKESPEARE has shewn us, that maidenly attachment is no match for the stronger passion of love.

" Is all the counsel that we two have shared,

" The sister vows, the hours that we have spent,

" When we have chid the hasty-footed time

" For parting us—O! and is all forgot?

" All school-days friendship, childhood innocence?

" We, Hermia, like two artificial Gods,

" Created with our needles both one flower,

" Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,

" Both warbling of one song, both in one key;

" As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds

" Had been incorp'rate."

Midsummer Night's Dream.

IF such an almost instinctive affection as that between Hermia and Helena was so quickly dissolved by the intruder Love, I fear there are but few female friendships that will better stand the test. And to a delicate mind it may appear a breach, perhaps, of those "sister vows," when one of the parties enters into another and more forcible engagement; for Love is an imperious and engrossing tyrant; of course the gentler affection must give way and retire within itself, as the sensitive plant shrinks back, oppressed by too intense an heat.

IN my small experience, I have never seen the same degree of attachment subsist between two ladies after marriage as before, excepting they were sisters. The bands of natural affection are not loosened by new engagements; but those of choice or casualty necessarily become relaxed by the addition of a new object, as extension lessens strength.

THE minds of most young women seem, and indeed ought to do so in reality, to acquire a new bent after marriage: scenes different from those to which they had been accustomed, open to their view; different objects engross their attention; every state has its cares; and, from the queen to the peasant, every wife has duties to fulfil. Frivolous amusements are, or should be, renounced, for the more pleasing and respectable avocations of an affectionate Wife, a tender Mother, and a beloved and honoured Matron of a family.

I HOPE it is impossible that I should be so far misunderstood, as to be thought to exclude married women from any innocent pleasure or rational amusement that is suited to their age, rank, or fortune. I would not only ensure but augment their happiness, and shall therefore say with Othello, ‘"Where virtue is, these are most virtuous."’ But still there is, or should be, a difference in the enjoyment of their pleasures; between the thoughtless gaiety of girls, and the decent chearfulness of married women. The first is bright and transient, as the youthful glow of health and vivacity that blooms upon the cheek; the latter should express that tranquil joy which flows from true content.

I MAY be thought to have somewhat wandered from the particular subject of this chapter, though, I hope, not from the general object of the work. I shall now conclude with observing, that as the characters and conduct of even her common acquaintance reflect honour or disgrace upon a young married woman, she will be an inevitable sharer in that degree of respect or contempt which her chosen friend possesses in the esteem of the world: and though its censures may sometimes involve the innocent with the guilty; yet, in general, there is no fairer way of forming our opinions of persons we do not know, than from their intimate associates.

THERE is something still more alarming to be dreaded for a young woman who is thoughtless enough to form indiscriminate friendships. There is a lightness of mind and manners in many women, who, though free from actual vice, have lost that delicate sensibility which Heaven has placed in female minds as the out-guard of modesty. The rosy blush that gives the intuitive alarm to decency, even before the perceptions of the mind are awake to danger, glows not upon their cheek; the snowy purity of innocence beams not upon their dauntless forehead, though it may still retain its whiteness. Their minds may be coarse, however delicate their form; and their manners unfeminine, even without being masculine.

AN intimacy with such persons is, of all others, the most dangerous. The frankness and liveliness of their conversation render them too generally agreeable, and they frequently undermine the principles of virtue, before we find it necessary to stand upon our guard.

AS the Platonic system has been long exploded, it is almost unnecessary to warn my fair Readers against particular intimacies with the other sex, when not closely connected with them by the ties of blood or affinity. The whole system of Nature must change, and the tyger and the lamb live peaceably together, before a sincere and disinterested friendship can subsist between an amiable young woman and a man not nearly related to her, who has not passed his grand climacteric. A man of such an age, possessed of sense and virtue, may perhaps be a kind and useful Mentor; but if a married woman is happy enough to meet with a proper and affectionate return from the first object I have recommended to her choice, she cannot stand in need of any other Friend.

PARENTAL and FILIAL AFFECTION.

PARENTAL Affection seems to be so perfectly instinctive, that when any unhappy object appears to be deficient in this natural sentiment, I consider such a person as one who has been unfortunately born deaf or blind; that is, in a state of deprivation of some of those faculties which Providence has been graciously pleased to render inherent in our nature, in its perfect formation.

IF Milton deplored the loss of sight, as shutting knowledge at one entrance out, with how much more reason may they, who are insensible to the fond and tender sensations of parental love, lament, that the fairest page in Nature's volume, the infant mind, appears to them a blank; and transports such as parents only feel, from their cold hearts for evermore shut out!

THAT every species of animals have sometimes produced monsters, is certain; but, by the goodness of Providence, they are few in number, when compared with the happy multitudes who are perfect in their several orders of existence. It is, therefore, unnecessary to pursue this painful idea further; so that I shall only add, to the honour of England, that an unfeeling parent is among us a character almost as singular as detestable.

BUT as affection in its natural progression rather descends than ascends, we sometimes see instances of deficiency in the returns of filial affection to parental love. Whenever this failure appears in persons of otherwise good and amiable dispositions, I am inclined to believe that there must have been something peculiarly wrong in the bias of their education, or the conduct of their parents towards them; for in a state of infancy every child must naturally love its parents; they are the first objects which awaken in us the ideas of power and kindness; of a power that enables, and a kindness that prompts, to supply all our little wants, and to soothe and alleviate all our pains and distresses. Long before we are able to develope these ideas, they naturally produce the almost instinctive sensations of reverence, gratitude, and love. These happy feelings of a virtuous mind ‘"Grow with our growth, and strengthen with our strength,"’ till sensation becomes sentiment, which can never be totally eradicated, though it may sometimes be restrained, or even overborne for a while, by some particular species of unkindness, severity, or injustice.

BUT though the sentiments of filial affection are so natural to every good heart, that Sovereign Power which formed us, "and knoweth whereof we are made," has thought proper to command the exertion of this virtue in its fullest extent, by the emphatic term of Honour thy Father and thy Mother, and has been graciously pleased to add the promise of length of days to those who fulfil this law.

WHEN the ties of natural affection are thus enforced by the Divine sanction, it appears almost impossible that any casualty should dissolve this double band, or that it should even be weakened by any other attachment.

THE union which is formed by wedded love, can never slacken or abate its strength; for in liberal minds the encrease of happiness, like the sun's beams upon a fertile soil, calls every virtue forth; the tender charities which gladden life are ripened and matured beneath its influence; while the flowers of connubial fondness bloom fairest, and are sweetest to the sense, when they grow on the rich stem of filial love: and a husband must be either weak or tyrannic, who does not rejoice in the kindness and attention of his wife to those who have been early and are nearly connected with her.

FAMILY attachments have this advantage over all others, that they are not subject to satiety. Parental fondness is augmented by the growth and expansion of every charm and merit in a child; and as it naturally happens that the parents begin to decline when the children have arrived at their zenith, reverence for their age and gratitude for their kindness, combined with the tender apprehension of losing them, add strength to our former affectionate feelings, and awaken that almost divine enthusiasm which inspired Pope's filial prayer:

" Me let the tender office long engage,

" To rock the cradle of declining Age;

" Explore the thought, explain the asking eye,

" And keep awhile a parent from the sky!"

THE proportions of our affection and esteem must necessarily, because naturally, be limited by the respective merits of the persons on whom they are conferred. Reason admits not of superstitious attachments in point of sentiment. But no demerit in a parent can absolve a child from that duty which has the double sanction both of God and Nature. How truly are they to be pitied, who, either from their own or their parents' defects, are unhappily rendered insensible to the virtuous transport of giving joy to those who gave them being! who, incapable of the pleasing alacrity arising from filial affection, fulfil the requests or wishes of a parent with the same reluctant coldness that they would execute the commands of a severe master!

PARENTAL authority is certainly abrogated by that of a husband—"We cannot serve two masters." But we can love a father and a husband, a mother and a son, with as pure and unmixed affection, as if our whole heart was devoted to any one of these individuals. Family connections, so far from being dissolved by marriage, are rather strengthened by the addition of a new member, and should continue to hold the first place in the society of a young married woman. If she is so happy as to approve, and be approved by, her husband's family, her love for him will incorporate them in her esteem with her own. She will naturally become the center of their mutual attachments and regard; while her amiable and endearing influence extending to each individual, shall unite them all in one complete and happy circle.

OECONOMY.

THIS is a subject which depends so entirely upon circumstances, that, like the cameleon, it must necessarily take its hue from the surrounding objects: but though obliged to vary its appearance from its different situations, it has still some fixed and determinate principles which constitute its essence, and preserve its name in every condition of life. Oeconomy may be compared to an isthmus placed between a continent and a peninsula, between profusion and parsimony, bearing equal relation to both. It is a line drawn by the hand of Reason upon the human mind to restrain the thoughtless excess of extravagance, too often miscalled generosity, and at the same time to set bounds to the meanest of all vices, avarice.

NEITHER rank nor riches can place any person above oeconomy; and perhaps those who possess such advantages in the highest degree, have the greatest occasion for the practice of this humble virtue.—"Where much is given, much is required," as well in the literal as the figurative sense of the expression; and when those who are blessed with affluence consider themselves, as they are bound to do, but as stewards for the poor, they must surely reflect that dissipation and extravagance are not the use, but the abuse, of that store which has been thus entrusted to their care, and that such misapplication cannot entitle them to fair acquittance from the great Giver of all good.

BUT were we to confine our views even to this dim spot, we shall find that oeconomy is, in every situation of life, a requisite and necessary duty incumbent on human nature. They must be very young indeed, who have not heard

" Of numbers, once in Fortune's lap high-fed,

" Who now solicit the cold hand of Charity!"

And what must then be the feelings of a generous heart, which from its indolence, or the vile indulgence of some fond caprice, has become self-deprived of that transcendant delight which Angels share with Men, of wiping off the bitter tear of woe, of soothing the afflicted heart, and bidding peace and joy revisit the sad mansions of despair!

OECONOMY is as perfectly inconsistent with avarice as with extravagance. Whenever it degenerates into penuriousness, it ceases to be a virtue, and appears even a less pardonable fault than its contrary extreme; for extravagance may be prompted by generosity, but selfishness can have no motive that is not mean. Oeconomy is founded in that justice which we owe to others, and in that proper respect which we owe to ourselves: these principles, happily united, form the true source of liberality and independence.

THERE is an oeconomy of time, too, as well as of fortune, which I would earnestly recommend. A little attention to this very important article would serve to lighten that sad load of which we oft complain, while yet with childish fondness we lament its flight! perhaps unknowing that it is within our power to wing its speed, or to arrest its course; or, perhaps, still worse, not reflecting that we shall be accountable for this rich, this sacred deposit, when time itself shall be no more!

FOR the proper oeconomy of this treasure, one general rule is sufficient for all ranks and situations—Employ your time—"Time wasted is existence, used is life;" and every condition and stage of life has its necessary and peculiar employments.

ACTION is the great spring on which Creation turns; it is that preserves and harmonizes all. Even things inanimate, trees, plants, and flowers, obey the voice of Nature, and act in their own sphere. Unbidden they send forth their fruits and odours, and pay their tribute to Creation's laws. The elements themselves subsist by motion. Without its actuating spirit the earth no more could turn upon its axis; the fire would be extinct, and air and water stagnate to putrefaction. Shall Man alone, the master-work of Heaven, rust in dull indolence, and, sinking in enervate sloth, debase his nature beneath the trodden clod? formed to contemplate all the works of God, to think upon the wonders of past times, and raise his future hopes to an eternity!

—" Time is eternity;

" Pregnant with all eternity can give,

" Pregnant with all that makes Archangels smile!—

" Who murders time, he crushes in the birth

" A power aetherial, only not adored."

NO reasoning being can doubt, but that the use or abuse of time must mark our future fate, as we ourselves ordain:

" The Spirit walks of each departed day,

" And smiles an Angel, or a Fury frowns."

BUT for a moment let us admit that conscience could be lulled to rest on beds of roses, or that the waste of time might not be deemed a vice; is there on earth a human being so lost to every sense of its own dignity as to acquiesce in bare existence, and to look back upon the sum of that existence as a blank? This last argument appears to me so fully sufficient to awaken that noble pride, that true self-estimation which Heaven has implanted in our souls, for the great purpose of exalting our nature above the subordinate classes of animals, who are debarred the glorious prerogative of looking forward with humble hope to an happy immortality, that I should think any other incitement would be superfluous upon this subject; which I shall therefore conclude with the interesting picture which the last Author quoted above has given, of those happy few who have made a right use of that treasure that Heaven has been pleased to entrust them with.

" Where shall I find him? Angels, tell me where!

" Your golden wings now hov'ring o'er him shed

" Protection, now are waving in applause,

" To that blest Son of Foresight! Lord of Fate!

" That awful independent on To-morrow!

" Whose work is done—who triumphs in the past;

" Whose yesterdays look backwards with a smile,

" Nor, like the Parthian, wound him as they fly."

CONCLUSION.

AS I have now, though perhaps but faintly, touched upon the duties most essential in the marriage-state, it appears to me unnecessary to pursue this work any farther; though I am certain there are many follies, not to give them a harsher name, incident to my sex, which are not even glanced at in these Essays. The most glaring, perhaps, that has been left unnoticed, is the universal spirit of dissipation which seems to reign among all ranks of women. But though I have not particularly attacked this Arch-demon, this greatest enemy to domestic happiness, I hope I have in some degree undermined his batteries, and sapped his intrenchments in the female heart. At least, I have offered to those who chuse to accept them, the powerful auxiliaries of Religion, Conjugal Affection, and Parental Love, to oppose his force, and render them superior to his allurements; for those who serve under the banner of these mild Virtues, will never fall a prey to the tyrannic power of Vice, however it may be supported by custom, or adorned by the seductive arts of fashion.

AS these Essays are meant to be generally useful, it would be impossible to confine their precepts to any particular rank or situation; of course there can be no rules laid down for the conduct of individuals under any peculiar circumstances: and indeed the whole Work may rather be considered as a sketch, from which the intelligent mind may deduce inferences and make applications, than as a regular plan to be diligently pursued.

UNCANDID and unfavourable as the presenttimes may be deemed to moral literature, and unequal as I may be thought to so arduous a subject as that I have undertaken, I still presume to hope there is no Critic so severe as to deny me the merit of meaning well, though I may have fallen infinitely short of the real motive that prompted this publication; which is, to restore my fair Countrywomen to that preeminence they formerly held over the rest of their sex through the known world, and to bring back that glorious aera when the Epitaph of the LUCAS family characterised the whole British Nation:

" All the Brothers were valiant,

" And all the Sisters virtuous."

I HAVE humbly presumed to lay this little Work at the feet of our most amiable and gracious QUEEN, whose private virtues, as a Wife and Mother, add lustre to her exalted rank, and would adorn the Throne of Universal Monarchy.

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Essays addressed to young married women

Griffith, Mrs. (Elizabeth), 1720?-1793.

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110601474X

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9781106014740

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— Essays addressed to young married women, Griffith, Mrs. (Elizabeth), 1720?-1793.. [4],vii,[1],124p. ; 8⁰. London :: printed for T. Cadell; and J. Robson,. 1782.. [Anonymous. By Elizabeth Griffith.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT68343.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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