THE following LETTERS have long lain by the author in a state of neglect ; indeed of uncertainty, wheth er the publication of them would do any credit to himself, or service to the world. Nor does he think, that he should ever have presumed to expose them before the formidable tribunal of the public, unless animated by the name of the very exalted and amiable personage, to whom they are addressed.*

If they deserve no fame, they ought, however, in his opinion to be branded with no malignant or invidious censure, as their intention is really to serve the fairest and most amiable part of the creation; to rouse young ladies from a vacant or insipid life, into one of usefulness and laudable exertion to recall them from visionary novels and romances, into solid reading and reflection- and from the criminal absurdities of fashion, to the simplicity of nature and the dignity of virtue. He has attempted a method of uniting, in their character, the graces with the vir tues; an amiable heart with elegant manners and an enlightened understanding; and if he should not have succeeded, is by no means the first person who has misjudged his powers, " qui magnis excidit ausis;" and can reflect for his comfort, that laudable projects are perhaps the whole, that lies within the narrow circle, or the talents of the bulk of mortals.

* This Work was originally dedicated to the Queen of England.

Contents.

THIS WORK RECOMMENDS, IN THE FOLLOWING ORDER,

1. RELIGIOUS KNOWLEDGE, with a list of
proper writers.

II. POLITE KNOWLEDGE, as it relates to the Belles
Lettres in general: Epistolary Writing, History, the
Lives of particular Persons, Geography, Natural His-
Bory, Astronomy, Poetry, Painting, Sculpture, Archi-
tecture, Heraldry, Voyages, Travels, &c. with a cata-
logue of, and criticisms upon, the most approved au-
thors under each article.

III. ACCOMPLISHMENTS, as displayed in Needle-
work, Embroidery, Drawing, Music, Dancing, Dress,
Politeness, &c.

IV. PRUDENTIAL CONDUCT AND MAXIMS,

with res-

pect to Amusements, Love, Courtship, Marriage, &c.

LETTERS

ΤΟ Α

YOUNG LADY.

LETTER I.

To Miss LUCY

MY DEAR LUCY,

THOUGH I myself have sustained an heavy loss by the death of your excellent mother, who lived so much in my friendship and esteem, and by her letters and society had conferred upon me some of the sweetest pleas ures in human life, yet you al is! are the prin ipal sufferer by this afflicting dispensation. It would give me the sincerest pleasure, if I knew how to alleviate your grief, or afford you a single moments consolation.

I need not press on you the doctrines of religion. You have, doubtless, considered why it is, that has de. prived you of this invaluable parent: a God of infinite wisdom who never strikes, but at the fittest moment; a God of equal goodness, who without the strongest reasons, would not afflict; and a being of unbounded pow. er, who is abundantly able to make up your loss, and open to you a thousand sources of comfort.

Christianity should exclude all unreasonable sorrow. If we believe that our friends are dead in God: we know that this life is only a vapour, that our separation is but for a moment, and that we shall soon be restored to them in a world, where life is without pain, and where friendship is immortal.

Though you are in the literal sense, an orphan, yet the number of friends, to whom you are so justly dear, will render your situation neither solitary, nor defenceless. The sensible, the elegant and the good, will think themselves honored by your acquaintance. They wil give you credit for inheriting all the amiable qualities of a mother, who was revered, as far as known, whilst nature has so strongly imprinted, on your face the resemblance of her features.

The scene is still fresh upon my memory, when in her last moments, she so strongly recommended you to my protection. And though she paid a compliment to my abilities, which only a partial friendship could have exci. ted, she did nothing more than strict justice to the warmth of my affection. I shall really think myself complimented by your correspondence. If you will call me father or brother you will give an unusual lustre to my name. This fond heart shall vibrate to your wishes and your happiness and if you will occasionally visit my little cot, it shall put on all its loveliest charms, and smile in its gayest attire, to receive so dear and so amiable a stranger. The roses of my humble garden shall, if possible, be doubly sweet; my jessamines shall emit an unusual fragrance; and if nature will but obey, I will order the general scenery to be delightful.

We shall reap, I am assured, mutual benefits by this acquaintance. If I am able to communicate to you any little knowledge, you will more than repay it by that ease, delicacy, refinement, confidence, and expansion, which the mind ever effectually feels, but in the friendship of a sensible and an interesting woman.-Such a friendship is the richest cordial of life. Either of the sexes without it, are never what they should be. Like the best figures, mutilated, they appear to disadvantage. Unnatural expedients may be tried to supply its place. Business, ambition, an overstrained prudence, or peculiar situations may lead us to deny ourselves so sweet a pleas ure; but, in fact, all human projects and successes are insipid without it. They are roseless thorns, a winter