"Harrisburg, March 20.
"To the Desultory Remarker.
"Sir—You will pardon the liberty which, as a perfect stranger, I take of addressing you. I have long cultivated a taste for literature; not that which abounds in circulating libraries, but that which is met with in those "founts of English undefiled," the classical poets and essayists of Great Britain. Of the latter, I have a decided preference for Addison; because his humour is as innocent as it is exquisite; and because his sincere and fervid piety is diametrically opposed to every thing like monastic gloom and austerity. He was a benefactor to mankind during the course of his life; and left them his example in the hour of death—"See how a Christian can die!" I have not trimmed the midnight lamp, in perusing the pages of sentimental and mischievous nonsense; but derive the highest gratification from those books which have long enjoyed the united suffrages of virtue. But to my purpose. You have embarked in an honourable undertaking, and one in which very few have been successful. You should profit, not merely by the wisdom of those that have gone before you, but also by their mistakes. I have read your two first numbers; and unless some improvement shall take place, either in your matter or manner, you will never be a favourite of mine.—There is too much unvaried gravity, and studied elaboration, in them.—When we take up a newspaper, or magazine, we do not expect to meet with a sermon, however well disposed we might be to welcome it on a proper occasion. Permit me to observe, that a long, prosing, lifeless essay, will never be read; and, if frequently met with, will create a distaste for the journal itself, in which it may appear. Being friendly to your success, you will indulge me in repeating, that should you fail to impart a greater degree of vanity and interest, to your future numbers; if you do not more frequently smooth the wrinkled brow of care, and assume the aspect of cheerfulness, you will lose many of the female readers you have at present, and among the rest,
"Your humble servant,
"STELLA."
This is a sensible, well written letter; and, if it would not be indecorous to express an opinion as to another feature of it, not overburthened with compliment. I am aware of the force and truth of some of Stella's observations; and will endeavour occasionally to profit by them. Though considerably advanced in the vale of years, I hope never to be insensible to the good opinion of that sex, which can successfully prefer claims to excellence, in every department of virtue; and whose influence on the well-being of society, is so incalculably important. What if my temples be encircled with the frosts of many winters, and the wings of my fancy be enfeebled, by that incurable malady, old age; I still shall be delighted to minister to the pleasure of those, whose approbation is worth desiring—
The wise and the learned, the witty and the fair.
An outline of the female character has been thus happily and accurately sketched, by the pencil of a poet.—The last couplet is descriptive of a trait in this character, which is as amiable as it is true.
Oh! Woman, in our hours of ease
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
And variable as the shade
By the light, quivering aspen made;
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou.