Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

and as she lived near, if her high⚫ness would give permission, she could send her directly to receive her or ders.' Upon which Thermuthis, bidding her make haste, said, she would stay on the spot till her mother arrived. It did not require many minutes for Jochebed to hear the story; and, directed by her daughter, she soon appeared before the princess, who, presenting the child, enquired if she was willing to accept the office of his nurse? adding, that finding him deserted by the river side, she had adopted him as her son; should therefore expect the utmost attention to be paid him, for which she would give proportionable wages, and desiring he might be brought to the palace at least once a week, for her satisfaction that he was doing well under her care. Moreover, said she, his name shall be called MOSES, 'because I drew him out of the wa'ter.'

"With inward joy Jochebed agreed to the conditions, and all points being settled, the amiable princess returned to the palace, and the happy mother to her humble abode, where, prostrating herself before the God of Jacob, she poured forth the rapturous effusions of a grateful soul, now in possession of its warmest wishes; then clasping the infant Moses in her arms, what a tide of maternal felicity rushed on her heart! Never had she experienced such exquisite joy; no, not. even when told, as the reward of her pains, that a man child was given to her; for then it was tinged with poignant anguish, lest the cruel decree should rob her of this dear-bought jewel. Now he was restored to her, she could press him to her bosom without the allay of fear; protected by the royal princess, she had nothing to apprehend; and it is only a mother that can participate her present emotions-description fails and I close a scene too affecting for representation.

"Can you suppose the amiable princess Thermuthis slept the worse, for having performed so beneficent au action? Oh, no! say rather, that the repose of conscious benevolence affords peculiar blessings. Soft were the poppies shed around the couch of this compassionate female; her slumbers sweet and gentle, rendered pleasant by the most agreeable visionary images, in which she beheld her little

charge advanced to regal dignity, and herself respected and caressed as the means of his promotion. Sleep on, illustrious damsel! may the choicest blessings of indulgent heaven rest on thee, and thy humanity be its own reward-Far unlike the disturbed repose of thy cruel father, who, possessed of arbitrary sway, found that even the throne and royal diadem could not command that balmy rest, which, perhaps, was enjoyed by his meanest subject, unfettered with those shackles that bound their imperious sovereign. For when those venomous reptiles, (strangers to peace) suspicion, jealousy, and cruelty, wind themselves within the folds of a regai vesture, they fail not to gnaw with intense anguish the entrails of its unhappy wearer: then even the splendid pomp of royalty becomes its own punishment, and the softest pillow is planted with thorns, which wound the head that presses its inviting surface." p. 1–5.

Upon the flight of Moses from the land of Egypt the following reflections are introduced.

"We have hitherto seen Moses only as the favourite of Providence, in the court of one of the greatest potentates of the earth; beloved and reverenced by those who could do his virtuous and glorious actions justice; nor till now had the despicable head of envy or malice dared to shew itself; blessed with the gifts of fortune and of fame, enjoying the affections of the best of parents, and often happy in their society, he had scarcely a wish ungratified, and was possessed of every felicity that could render life desirable. Now observe the painful reverse; deprived of his dearest relatives-banished a kingdom where he had merited only applause -unattended, and almost without the common necessaries of subsistence, behold him flying for his life, and uncertain whether all his precantions might not end in destruction. Alas! what a picture does Moses present, of the little dependence there is to be placed on worldly prosperity, when even the smallest breath ca level our brightest hopes in the dest covering us with confusion and de may! What reliance can be placed upon such fleeting shadows, that mo us with the appearance of substance, holding out to our view the most alluring colours, and promising ex

tensive bliss-inviting our incautious foosteps to follow, with eager earnest ness, those retreating bubbles, that at length burst in cruel disappointment, and miserably overwhelm the too credulous expectant of proffered, but false felicity. Where can an unhappy being, thus imposed on, and then cruelly deserted, expect to find support against this accumulated load of wretchedness, much less a competent recompence of real and substantial happiness, in exchange for the airy phantom? Say, can human philosophy, with all its high attainments ransacked to the utmost-will it afford the demanded blessing, and properly fortify the mind of man to bear up against the most adverse turns of fortune Alas! how have its boasted excellencies failed here; and the utmost it could arrive at, in the greatest stretch of human woe, has been in a cowardly and impious manner, forcibly to rush out of a life become any longer insupportable.-Will benumbing insensibility shield us from the dreaded evil? Ah, no! often has it been seen. that even the most callous breast is not proof against accumulated disasters; and that heart which had been steeled against a fellow-creature's pangs, has deeply, powerfully felt its own. Whither then shall we turn whither seek, and where find a shelter from the furious storms of life? whither should we go indeed, but to that omnipotent Protector, who holds out a sure refuge and defence, a never failing resource, an inexhaustible supply of every benefit, and a more than adequate balance for the loss of every worldly good? Moses now in a peculiar manner experienced the value of this impregnable fortress; and though destitute, forlorn, and friendless in a visible sense, yet the God of his fore-fathers was with him in the dreary desert, supporting and comforting his weary soul, rendering the barren path he trod easy and pleasant, and even the wild unfrequented wilderness a fertile plain. So well did his heavenly guardian console and animate his fainting spirits with joyful prospects of never-failing bliss, when he should have exchanged this state of trial and useful probation for a blessed immortality, where undisturbed he would through all eternity bask in the sunshine of supreme, inexpressible felicity, and find the tri

fling troubles of this transitory life amply compensated for, and swal lowed up in one large boundless ocean of seraphic rapture. These are consolations peculiar to the heirs of immortal life; nor can the grovelling worldling, surrounded with all its vanities, for one moment taste the ineffable satisfaction arising from this source, the sure and certain know. ledge, that we shall awake to happiness beyond the silent grave." p. 33 -35.

Many incidents are introduced in this little book, furnished by the ima gination of the authoress: "not one of which," it is observed in the preface, "but might have occurred."

This work terminates with the departure of Moses from the family of Jethro to return into the land of Egypt, and for the subsequent part of his life the reader is referred to the Sacred Scriptures.

MEN.

CXLVII. THE FRIEND OF Wo. Translated from the French of Bourdier de Villemont. By ALEXANDER MORRICE. Thin 8vo.

HIS work, dedicated to her

Royal Highness the Princess of Wales, commences with a short introduction, which is followed by thirteen chapters, the subjects of which are stated in the following division of the subject. The author writes,

"I shall enquire relatively to the rank they hold among us; what is the kind of study and occupation that belongs to them; of their parti cular pleasures, among which are ranked luxury and dress. I shall, then, proceed to some reflections on love, marriage, and the education of children. I shall, as I go along, treat of the domestic government that naturally belongs to women, and finish with a small picture of their virtues, less uncommon than it pleases some persons to give them credit for. My object is, in few words, to offer to the observation of women, truths, which custom seems desirous of proscribing. If sometimes they have contributed to multiply our wanderings, it is frequently reserved for them to reclaim us. Women can do every thing they dare to undertake: those who have sufficient elevation of soul to preserve this advantage over us, revenge

themselves for our pride by an ines timable benefit; and their charms only become more powerful over those men who deserve this name." p. il. The chapter on the rank of women in society begins with the observation that, "those who only consider women as beautiful figures placed here for embellishment and pleasure, have but a very imperfect idea of them... "Women have quite another destination they are created for a more noble purpose than being held up to public shew. Their charms are but the promise of more enchanting qualities. To reduce them merely to beauties, is degrading them, and almost levelling them with their pictures. They who possess beauty only may make an agreeable figure in a chair of state, and decorate a drawing-room. They are agreeable to look at (to speak literally) but it is necessary that women should possess something more than mere beauty, to derive all the advantages from the intercourse with them, that we have a right to expect.” p. 12, 13.

The author argues upon the proposition that, each sex should be improved by the other, and observes, "If men possess a more vigorous mind, it is that they may more effectually assist towards the happiness of those who possess one more delicate. But one sex was never formed to be the oppressor of the other: the close intercourse between them renders their advantages mutual, and the ridiculous debates of superiority are a kind of injury done to nature, and a want of acknowledging its benefits.

"We are born the friends of women, and not their rivals, still less their tyrants.

To reduce them to slavery, is to use that strength against them which is given us to defend them, and rob Society of what forms its sweetest charm: it becomes insipid, if we ba nish from it that part of the human race which is most proper to animate it." p. 15, 16.

The pernicious and disgusting customs of the East are noticed and reprobated and on the means by which the favours of women have been obtained, the author observes, "It costs less, in the present day, to obtain the good graces of this sex.

"It is not the greatest intrepidity, or elevation of soul, that makes men

favourites with the women: little attentions, minute compliances, and a servile imitation, is sufficient to become a favourite.

"Women, thrown by us into a vortex of continual dissipation, for which they are not made, liave contracted a relish for frivolity, and have made it the ton. They have so long enslaved the men to their caprices, that they find themselves confounded with them in the same labyrinth.

"Luxury having quite effeminated all, if I may be allowed to say it, the contrast placed by nature between the sexes has disappeared, and the one can only find in the other a weakness capable of augmenting its own." p. 17, 18.

After stating the influence of women, the first chapter is closed with the following observation: "Let them then learn that beauty merits our homage no further than as it accompanies a lovely soul. Nature hardly ever clothes any thing with charms but what is useful-a fair fruit is rarely a poison thus a lovely woman of a vicious disposition is a monster in' nature." p. 22.

:

In the second chapter, which is on the studies suitable to women, the author proposes the question. "But what are the objects to which women can reasonably apply themselves ?" and in his reply says, that "among all the sciences which exercise the wonderful activity of the human mind, there are but some few that are within their reach." p. 25.

Theology is considered as an unsuitable study for them; and the following subjects are recommended; "physic, history, painting, music, and poetry."

On the occupations of women it is observed, "labour is a law of nature, the observance of which adds to the fame and happiness of human beings.

"Rank, fortune, sex, nor any reason, can make it be dispensed with ; and nothing is more deserving of coutempt than that languor of the soul which inclines it to fly from itself. To do nothing is, as far as they can, to sink into non existence." p. 33.

In this chapter is introduced the following description of a woman of fashion: "What is called a woman of fashion (Ha! who does not form one of that number in the present day 7) gets up not very early in the

morning, passes the rest of it at the toilette, or often receives visits in a dishabille more than gallant. After dinner they dress for the play or the promenade; go from theuce to glitter at a supper, and return to sleep at a late hour, in order to run the next day the same equally useless career." .34, 35.

Cards are reprobated as childish, and, from their occupying time which ought to be engaged in active employ ment, as prejudicial to health.

The unavailing attempts to remedy the consequences of idleness are noticed. It is remarked that, "to fly from the black vapours which idleness causes, are there then no other means than plunging into folly? Yes, without doubt it is a wise medium, but which is seldom sought for: we may divide our beauties into idlers and madcaps, nearly the same as they divide them into fair and bru

nettes.

"They who preserve themselves from pining, too frequently give themselves up to a dissipation which makes them parade to excess, and long for every thing they see. Whims succeed each other rapidly, and keep them in continual motion; it is a new trinket they are mad after; some'times it is a dog or a parrot they are charmed with; a set of china equally engrosses their regards. Their minds, always filled with new trifles, have not a moment's relaxation; and in an habitual leisure they complain of not being able to enjoy a single in

stant.

"It is thus,' as an antient writer said, that life is passed away with⚫out doing any thing at all, or in doing every other thing but what should be done.' I wish the ladies I am treating of would take a whim of putting down on paper an exact account of every thing they have done through the day, to be laid on their toilette every night; they would see that they are in the predicament I speak of that they either do nothing, or attend only to trifles.

"In a word, it is necessary there should be a real daily employment: the body should have its task as well as the mind, &c." p. 38, 39.

Employment is recommended by the following examples: "Homer speaks to us of princesses who took upon them the economy of their hous

holds and the care of their servants, and also made the clothes of their husbands and family..

"He describes Andromache to us as employing herself in works of embroidery: Helen made rich carpets, which she also embroidered. The celebrated Penelope and her web are well known.

"Terence, Virgil, and all the authors as well sacred as profane, agree as to the active and laborious lives of women; and even at Rome, in its most corrupted times, Augustus, from the account of Suetonius, wore no other clothes than those made by his wife or his sister.

"It was even a custom in the last century for women to employ themselves in useful works. The half of our ancient nobility were not contented with employing only some part of the day in ingenuity: there may be seen in France many mansions in which the whole furniture has been worked by the lady of the house.

"There are always sufficient examples to quote for the encouraging women to activity. The Germans, that wise nation, who have least degenerated from the antient manners, have preserved in their women that love for work that they themselves possess. In all the German courts, the princesses work assiduously among their ladies, and do not blush at being employed about domestic concerns-but they would blush to be found idlers. As they do not think women have the shameful privilege of doing nothing, they think that the love of employment is a virtue which sets of the others, and which does honour to their sex even upon a throne." p. 40, 41.

In the chapter on domestic government the author observes, "Man is the arm; he bears the weight of labour: but the woman is the eye; she watches over every thing, at all times: it is through the keenness of her sight that it is reserved for her to perceive every thing that is for the benefit of the family. What cares are there not daily required for the details of the table, of lodging, and company? What a continual attention to bring up her children properly, and to govern them according to their dispositions! The daughters are early associated by the mother in her duties; and her example is an excellent in

structor for them. A daughter who has assisted in making the charms of a private life predominate in her father's house, will consequently make it reign in that of her husband. And it is thus that the race of careful and attentive wives are perpetuated." p. 125..

Toward the close of the work a sketch of the life of Madame Maintenon is given.

The foregoing extracts, which we consider as some of the best parts of the work, will, we think, enable our readers to form their opinions of its merits.

CXLVIII. PHILARIO AND CLARINDA. A Warning to Youth against Scepticism, Infidelity, and Vice. By the late Rev. JOHN THOROW GOOD.

12mo.

TH

HE preface to this little book in forms us that it was written before the author had reached his twentieth year, and that he would not consent to its being printed during his life. It consists of six letters, addressed to one who is introduced to our notice as his revered tutor, father, and friend and contains the principal circumstances in the life of Philario.

Philario is represented as when very young to have obtained the friendship and esteem of a pious family, in which was the amiable and lovely Clarinda, who soon made an impression of affection upon Philario's heart upon the first communication of his sentiments to Clarinda he meets with a repulse: several conversations are related, in which he gained no satisfactory reply. Receiving intelligence that he must prepare to remove to London, his mind was filled with anxiety, because the "place he possessed in the esteem of Clarinda was so uncertain, and his situation respecting her was so precarious."

Upon the eve of his setting out for London he renews his professions of the sincerity of his love, and earnestly solicits to be made acquainted with her sentiments towards him. After many arguments used by Clarinda to enforce the propriety of keeping them secret from him, he at last "wrested a confession from her, that a mutual passion had long retained

the possession of her soul." In this conversation she seems to anticipate what afterwards actually took place.

Apprehending the circumstances described in this volume are too of ten realized, we would join in the de sign of the pious author and Editor to warn against the evils which are here deprecated, and present to our readers Philario's account of himself upon his arrival in London, and of his subsequent defection. This is his language. "I held vice, at least the overt acts of it, in the utmost abhorrence.-The company and amusements of the gay part of mankind were the objects of my contempt and aversion, and as I could not discover wherein the pleasures of wine and madness, of splendor and gaiety, of luxury and extravagance, consisted, I experienced not the least inclination of enrolling myself in the num ber of their votaries.-My happiness centered in the improvement of the mind: books, and instructive, rather than diverting company, were my unfashionable amusements. — I was unacquainted, nor did I desire to be acquainted, with the polite arts of dissimulation and gallantry. Sincerity, and an ingenuous frankness, composed my native disposition, and prevailed in all my conversation." p. 56, 57.

Prior to the corrupting of his mind, his affection for Clarinda continued to prevail in purity and ardour; but after his mind was influenced by the principles of infidelity, the reverse took place.

Philario's principles were corrupted by a young man, son to a gentleman of peculiar worth and excellency, distinguished by his fine sense, solid understanding, and amiable deportment, with whom he had contracted an acquaintance. The uncommon abilities of this youth made Philario desirous of cultivating an intimacy with him; for although, when in the company of his dissolute associates, he abandoned himself to vice and debauchery, yet he demeaned himself with so much caution, art, and dissimulation in the presence of his friends, that they readily believed him to be what they wished him. By crafty measures he contaminated Philario's mind; for the author writes, "Sensible that if he pulled off the mask, and at once manifested him

« AnteriorContinuar »