LETTER XXX.
Mrs. HOLMES to MYRA.
You will observe, my dear
friend, that most of the letters I have written
to you of late, on female education, are confined
to the subject of study. I am sensible
of the ridicule sometimes levelled at those
who are called learned ladies. Either these
ladies must be uncommonly pedantick, or
those who ridicule them, uncommonly ignorant—Do
not be apprehensive of acquiring
that title, or sharing the ridicule, but remember
that the knowledge which I wish you to
acquire, is necessary to adorn your many virtues
and amiable qualifications. This ridicule
is evidently a
transatlantick idea, and
must have been imbibed from the source of
some
English Novel or Magazine—The
American ladies of this class, who come within
our knowledge, we know to be justly celebrated
as ornaments to society, and an
honour to the sex. When it is considered
how many of our countrywomen are capable
of the task, it is a matter of regret that
American
literature boasts so few productions
from the pens of the ladies.
SELF complacency is a most necessary
acquirement—for the value of a woman will
always be commensurate to the opinion she
entertains of herself. A celebrated European
wit, in a letter to a lady, concenters much
good advice in one short rule of conduct:
“REVERENCE THYSELF.”
I WAS this morning reading Swift's letter
to a very young lady, on her marriage. Although
this famous writer is not celebrated
for delicacy or respect towards us, yet I wish
some of his observations contained less
truth—If you are in company, says this
writer, when the conversation turns on the
manners and customs of remote nations, or
on books in verse or prose, or on the nature
and limits of virtue and vice, it is a shame
for a lady not to relish such discourses, not to
improve by them, and endeavour by reading
and information, to have her share in those
entertainments, rather than turn aside, as is
the usual custom, and consult with the woman
who sits next her, about a new cargo of
fans.
HE then descends to particulars, and insists
on the necessity of orthography. Is it not a
little hard, continues he, that not one gentleman's
daughter in a thousand should be
brought to read or understand her own natural
tongue, or be judge of the easiest books that
are written in it; as any one may find, who
can have the patience to hear them mangle a
Play or a Novel?
IF there be any of your acquaintance
to whom this passage is applicable, I hope
you will recommend the study of Mr. Webster's
Grammatical Institute, as the best work
in our language to facilitate the knowledge
of Grammar. I cannot but think Mr. Web
ster intended his valuable book for the benefit
of his countrywomen: For while he delivers
his
rules in a pure, precise, and elegant style,
he
explains his meaning by
examples which
are calculated to inspire the female mind
with a thirst for emulation, and a desire of
virtue.
NO subject has been more exhausted than
that of education. Many Utopian schemes
have been delineated, and much speculation
employed. When I peruse these labours,
and am persuaded the intention of their authors
is to promote our welfare, I feel myself
prompted to a prudent and amiable demeanour;
and I suppose every woman of reason
and reflection feels the same inclination to
virtue, and the same sensations of gratitude,
in reading the works of those writers, the
characteristicks of whom, are sentiment,
morality and benevolence.
WHAT books do you read, my dear? We
are now finishing Barlow's Vision of Columbus,
and shall begin upon Dwight's Conquest of
Canaan in a few days. It is very agreeable
to read with one, who points out the beauties
of the author as we proceed. Such an one
is Worthy.—Sometimes Mr. Holmes makes
one of our party, and his notes and references
to the ancient poets are very entertaining.
Worthy is delighted with the ease and freedom
with which we live here. We have
little concerts, we walk, we ride, we read, we
have good company—this is Belleview in all
its glory!
ADIEU
ADIEU, my dear—I shall continue this
subject no longer, though I flatter myself you
would receive my hints with satisfaction, because
you must be persuaded I love you, and
so interest myself in your welfare—I need
not add that I think your conduct worthy of
you. You are such a good girl that I know
not in what to direct you; for you leave
me no room for advice—continue to anticipate
the desires of my heart, and to secure
the high opinion you have there obtained.
