Being assembled, this afternoon, Mrs. Williams thus resumed her discourse.
“Reading is so common a part of education, that the value of it is not duly estimated; nor the manner of performing it, sufficiently attended to. It is not the mere propriety of pronunciation, accent, and cadence, which constitutes good reading. You must enter into the spirit of the subject, and feel interested in the matter, before you can profit by the exercise.
“But you are so well acquainted with the manner of reading, that the quality of books most worthy of your perusal is the only point on which I need to enlarge.
“Romances, the taste of former times, are now so far out of vogue, that it is hardly necessary to warn you against them. They exhibit the spirit of chivalry, knight-errantry, and extravagant folly, which prevailed in the age they depict. But they are not interesting; nor can they be pleasing to the correct taste and refined delicacy of the present day.
“Novels, are the favorite and the most dangerous kind of reading, now adopted by the generality of young ladies. I say dangerous, because the influence, which, with very few exceptions, they must have upon the passions of youth, bears an unfavorable aspect on their purity and virtue. The style in which they are written is commonly captivating; and the luxuriance of the descriptions with which they abound, extremely agreeable to the sprightly fancy, and high expectations of the inexperienced and unreflecting. Their romantic pictures of love, beauty, and magnificence, fill the imagination with ideas which lead to impure desires, a vanity of exterior charms, and a fondness for show and dissipation, by no means consistent with that simplicity, modesty, and chastity, which should be the constant inmates of the female breast. They often pervert the judgment, mislead the affections, and blind the understanding.
“A melancholy example of this sort is exhibited in Juliana. Juliana was the only daughter of a wealthy merchant, who grudged no expense which could please or embellish his darling child. He, however, possessed neither leisure nor abilities ‘to teach the young idea how to shoot;’ but thought it sufficient that he gave her every advantage, which could be derived from the various schools, to which she was consigned. She had a brilliant fancy, and a fondness for books, which, properly directed, might have proved of great use to her. But, having no better principles instilled into her mind, she indulged herself in the unlimited reading of novels, and every light publication which a circulating library could furnish.
“Hence her imagination took wing, and carried her far above the scenes of common life. The excessive refinement of her mind admitted no ordinary amusements or avocations. Plain truth from her own sex was an insult; and from the other, nothing less than adoration would satisfy her unbounded vanity. Her beauty (of which she really had a considerable share) and the large fortune which she would probably inherit, gained her many admirers; some of whom were men of unquestionable merit. But a sober, rational courtship could not answer her ideas of love and gallantry. The swain, who would not die for her, she deemed unworthy of notice.
“Her father strongly recommended a gentleman, as well calculated, in his opinion, to make her happy, and as having his entire approbation; but she rejected him with disdain, though she could produce no one objection against his person, or character.
“Her father acquiesced; expressing, however, his regret at the mistaken notions she had imbibed; and warning her most pathetically against the indulgence of so romantic a disposition; yet all in vain. He was considered as an illiterate plodder after wealth, which she had a right to bestow as she pleased.
“At last the lovely youth whom she had so long contemplated, made his appearance. A military captain entered the town on the recruiting service. Young, handsome, easy, bold and assuming; with all the bon ton of the coxcomb, and all the insolence of the novice. He saw Juliana; he sacrificed to her charms, and conquered. She could not resist the allurements of his gallantry. His affectation of dying love was received with apparent pleasure; while art and duplicity took advantage of her weakness, to precipitate her into engagements to pity and relieve him. Her friends saw her danger, and warmly remonstrated against her imprudent conduct, in receiving the addresses of a man, destitute of property to support her, and void of every kind of personal merit. Her father entreated and implored the rejection of her lover, till, finding every other method vain, he at length resolutely forbade him the house, and his daughter’s company. This was viewed as persecution; and, consistently with her sentiments of adventurous love, a clandestine amour was commenced. Her father surprised them together; and, enraged at their disgraceful intrigue, seized the captain, and endeavored to turn him out of doors. He violently resented this ungentlemanlike treatment, as he termed it, and defended himself with his sword. The old gentleman received a slight wound in the scuffle; but accomplished his purpose. Juliana was terrified at this rencounter, and, dreading her father’s displeasure, ran out with her paramour. His lodgings were near, and thither, favored by the darkness of the night, he instantly led her. She involuntarily followed him, without considering the impropriety of her conduct. Here he drew his sword, and, throwing himself at her feet, professed his despair, and declared himself resolved to put an immediate end to his life. She endeavored to reason him into calmness; but in vain. He was sensible, that, if he now relinquished her to her father, he should lose her forever. His apparent agony overcame her, and she gave him her hand.