"The poor girl, to whom all this visionary romance had been a serious occupation, which had swallowed up cares and duties, now realized the woes she had so often admired and described. Her upbraidings only served to alienate still more the heart of her deserter; and her despair, which he had the cruelty to treat as fictitious, was to him a subject of mirth and ridicule. Her letters were exposed, her expostulatory verses read at clubs and taverns, and the unhappy Sappho toasted in derision.
"All her ideal refinements now degenerated into practical improprieties. The public avowal of her passion drew on her from the world charges which she had not merited. Her reputation was wounded, her health declined, her peace was destroyed. She experienced the dishonors of guilt without its turpitude, and in the bloom of life fell, the melancholy victim to a mistaken education and an undisciplined mind."
Mrs. Stanley dropped a silent tear to the memory of her unhappy friend, the energies of whose mind she said would, had they been lightly directed, have formed a fine character.
"But none of the things of which I have been speaking," resumed Mr. Stanley, "are the great and primary objects of instruction. The inculcation of fortitude, prudence, humility, temperance, self-denial—this is education. These are things we endeavor to promote far more than arts or languages. These are tempers, the habit of which should be laid in early, and followed up constantly, as there is no day in life which will not call them into exercise; and how can that be practiced which has never been acquired?
"Perseverance, meekness, and industry," continued he, "are the qualities we most carefully cherish and commend. For poor Laura's sake, I make it a point never to extol any indications of genius. Genius has pleasure enough in its own high aspirings. Nor am I indeed overmuch delighted with a great blossom of talents. I agree with good Bishop Hull, that it is better to thin the blossoms that the rest may thrive; and that in encouraging too many propensities, one faculty may not starve another."
Lady Belfield expressed herself grateful for the hints Mr. Stanley had thrown out, which could not be but of importance to her who had so large a family. After some further questions from her, he proceeded:
"I have partly explained to you, my dear madam, why, though I would not have every woman learn every thing, yet why I would give every girl, in a certain station of life, some one amusing accomplishment. There is here and there a strong mind, which requires a more substantial nourishment than the common education of girls affords. To such, and to such only, would I furnish the quiet resource of a dead language as a solid aliment, which may fill the mind without inflating it.
"But that no acquirement may inflate it, let me add, there is but one sure corrective. Against learning, against talents of any kind, nothing can steady the head, unless you fortify the heart with real Christianity. In raising the moral edifice, we must sink deep in proportion as we build high. We must widen the foundation if we extend the superstructure. Religion alone can counteract the aspirings of genius, can regulate the pride of talents.
"And let such women as are disposed to be vain of their comparatively petty attainments, look up with admiration to those two cotemporary shining examples, the venerable Elizabeth Carter and the blooming Elizabeth Smith. I knew them both, and to know was to revere them. In them, let our young ladies contemplate profound and various learning chastised by true Christian humility. In them, let them venerate acquirements which would have been distinguished in a university, meekly, softened, and beautifully shaded by the gentle exertion of every domestic virtue, the unaffected exercise of every feminine employment."