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 | The boarding school, or, Lessons of a preceptress to her pupils ; consisting of information, instruction, and advice, calculated to improve the manners, and form the character of young ladies ; to which is added, a collection of letters, written by the pupils, to their instructor, their friends, and each other |  |
Newbury-Port.
The extracts which you transmitted to
me in your last kind letter, my dear Sophia, from
your favourite author, Doctor Young, corresponded
exactly with the solemnity infused into
my mind by the funeral of a neighbour, from
which I had just returned.
I agree with you, that the Night-Thoughts are
good devotional exercises. It is impossible to
read them with that degree of attention which
they merit, without being affected by the important
and awful subjects on which they treat.
But Young, after all, is always too abstruse, and
in many instances, too gloomy for me. The
most elaborate application is necessary to the
comprehension of his meaning and design;
which, when discovered, often tend rather to
depress than to elevate the spirits.
Thompson is much better adapted to my
taste. Sentiment, elegance, perspicuity, and
sublimity are all combined in his Seasons. What
an inimitable painter! How admirably he describes
the infinitely variegated beauties and operations
of nature! To the feeling and susceptible
heart they are presented in the strongest
light. Nor is the energy of his language less
perceivable, when he describes the Deity riding
stormy tempest.
The sun, oppress'd, is plung'd in thickest gloom;
Still horror reigns, a dismal twilight round,
Of struggling night and day malignant mix'd.
Far to the hot equator crowding fast,
Where, highly rarefy'd, the yielding air
Admits their stream, incessant vapours roll,
Amazing clouds on clouds continual heap'd;
Or whirl'd tempestuous by the gusty wind,
Or silent, borne along, heavy and slow,
With the big stores of streaming oceans charg'd.
Meantime, amid these upper seas, condens'd
Around the cold aërial mountain's brow,
And by conflicting winds together dash'd,
The thunder holds his black tremendous throne.
From cloud to cloud the rending lightnings rage;
Till, in the furious elemental war
Dissolv'd, the whole precipitated mass
Unbroken floods and torrents pours.”
Conscious of our own weakness and dependence,
we can hardly fail to adore and to fear
that Divine Power, whose agency this imagery
exhibits to our minds. Nor are the devout affections
of our hearts less excited, when we behold
the same glorious Being arrayed in love,
and accommodating the regular succession of
summer and winter, seed-time and harvest to our
convenience and comfort. When nature, obedient
to his command, revives the vegetable
the animal, and even rational creation, we involuntarily
exclaim with the poet,
Of heaven and earth! Essential Presence, hail!
To Thee I bend the knee; to Thee my thoughts
Continual climb; who, with a master hand,
Hast the great whole into perfection touch'd.
By Thee the various vegetative tribes,
Wrapt in a filmy net, and clad with leaves,
Draw the live ether, and imbibe the dew.
By Thee, dispos'd into congenial soils,
Stands each attractive plant, and sucks, and swells
The juicy tide; a twining mass of tubes.
At Thy command, the vernal fun awakes
The torpid sap, detruded to the root
By wintry winds; which now in fluent dance,
And lively fermentation, mounting, spreads
All this innumerous-colour'd scene of things.”
Aided in our observations by this pathetic and
pious writer, our hearts beat responfive to the
sentiments of gratitude, which he indirectly, yet
most forcibly inculcates in that devout address to
the Supreme Parent:
Almighty Father! silent in thy praise,
Thy works themselves would raise a general voice,
Even in the depth of solitary woods,
By human foot untrod; proclaim thy power,
And to the quire celestial Thee resound,
Th' eternal Cause, Support, and End of all!”
By this beautiful poem we are allured to the
study of nature, and to the contemplation of nature's
God. Our hearts glow with devotion and
love to the sovereign Lord and Benefactor of the
universe; and we are drawn, by the innumerable
displays of his goodness, to the practice of virtue
and religion.
You may, possibly, call me an enthusiast.
Be it so. Yet I contend for the honor, but especially
for the privilege, of being a cheerful one.
For I think we dishonor our heavenly Father by
attaching any thing gloomy or forbidding to his
character. In the participation of divine blessings,
let us rather exercise a thankful, and contented
disposition.
I remain your's most affectionately.
| The boarding school, or, Lessons of a preceptress to her pupils ; consisting of information, instruction, and advice, calculated to improve the manners, and form the character of young ladies ; to which is added, a collection of letters, written by the pupils, to their instructor, their friends, and each other | |