adore, soon after his return, prove a careless, unkind, and inconstant husband; whilst his equally misguided and imprudent companion has, in the strictest sense of the word, proved herself a modern wife! Many sad tragedies has love produced in the world from many different and sad causes. The following story will more strikingly illustrate my present subject than any farther arguments which I could use. May it have its due weight, and the miseries occasioned by the errors of the parties prevent any one from daring to follow their examples ! Harriet Darnly was the daughter of a reputable mercer, who lived in London, and who had a numerous family. Unfortunately for Harriet, who was a very lovely, but a very vain and weak girl, she had two thousand pounds left her by an uncle, which was to be hers when she arrived at the age of twenty-one. Mr. Darnly had, at the time this legacy was left Harriet, an apprentice of the name of Henley. This young man, who had every advantage of figure to captivate, was tired of the drudgery of the shop, and heartily weary of confinement. He had long wished to purchase a commission in the army. Harriet beheld Edward Henley, unknown to her parents, with tender partiality, and had given every encouragement to his hopes. The attentions which his vanity, more than his affection, had led him to pay her, unhappily obtained her love. She would take every opportunity of sitting in the shop, and gave him every reason to suppose that an offer of his heart would not be unacceptable. No sooner was it known that Harriet's uncle had left her so considerable a legacy, than he took the earliest opportunity of making a declaration of his passion. The unguarded fair one too easily discovered to her artful lover the progress he had already made in gaining her affections; and knowing that Mr. Darnly had, with too much reason, been offended with his careless inattention to business, prevailed upon the unhappy girl not to disclose to any one the conquest she had made, till, by the regularity and steadiness of his future conduct, he had effected a perfect reconciliation with her father, and persuaded his own to make proper proposals. Engaged in a clandestine acquaintance with one equally gay as worthless, Harriet was led from one step of imprudence to another, and granted her lover such frequent interviews, that to marry was become absolutely necessary. To Gretna-Green they went: the lady wanted only a few weeks of being of age. As soon as she was so, her proftigate husband demanded her fortune, bought a commission, and, when he had spent what remained, by his regiment being ordered abroad, left his wife and child, which, at his departure, was only two months old, to all the horrors of unprotected misery and threatened poverty. Mr. Darnly, at the interposition of some friends, was, with some difficulty, prevailed upon to permit his once darling daughter to return to her paternal home, and to receive her with some degree of affection; but as neither he nor her mother could ever bring themselves entirely to forget the deceit she practised with them to her own undoing, and as her brothers and sisters now looked upon her with an eye of jealous envy, she is frequently obliged to bear reproaches, which her own heart, conscious of having but too well deserved them, knows not how to support. Whilst she sees her sisters easy, gay, and happy, her brothers cheerful and content, she feels the misery of her own situation with redoubled anguish; and when she looks on her little girl, often trembles lest she, like herself, should fall a victim to her own imprudence. The worthless cause of her having strayed from the paths of prudence, and disregarded the calls of duty, lives abroad on the income of that fortune which was given to make her happy, and never had the humanity to send her a single line, or to make any inquiries after the poor victim of his base ness. Be warned, fair daughters of innocence, by the wretched Harriet. Attempt not to deceive your parents. Let her example prevail upon you to believe, the most flattering appearances may conceal depravity, and that the protestations of a clandestine lover are seldom meant but to betray, ON THE SNARES OF PERSONAL BEAUTY, AND THE NECESSITY OF CULTIVATING MENTAL EXCELLENCE. What whispers must the beauty bear! GAY. BEAUTY is a captivating, but fading flower, which often leads its youthful possessors into many dangers, many distresses. Happy is it for those who are distinguished for their outward charms, that they are sheltered under the pareutal roof! Happy for them that the watchful eye regards them with rigid circumspection. Few, in the early periods of life, are insensible to flattery, or deaf to the voice of adulation. Beware of the flatterer: be not deceived by fair speeches. Be assured, the man who wishes to render you vain of your outward charms, has a mean opinion of your sense and mental qualifications. Remember, too, that a young girl, vain of her beauty, and whose chief study and employment is the decoration of her person, is a most contemptible character; and that the more you are distinguished for the charms of your face and the graces of your form, the more you are exposed to censure and to danger. The rose is torn from its parent stem in all its pride and beauty; the jessamine is scarcely permitted to blossom be fore it is plucked; and no sooner are their beauties faded, than the merciless hand which was eager to obtain them throws them away with contempt; whilst the primrose, the humble violet, the lily of the valley, and the snow-drop, less exposed to observation, escape unhurt and uninjured by the spoiler's hand. Learn, fair daughters of beauty, from the lily, to court the friendly shade; and from the primrose be convinced, that your best security may be found in retirement. If you wish to be admired, be seldom seen; and if you are desirous of having a sincere lover in your train, let virtue, modesty, and sweetness, be the only lures you make use of to ensnare. You may then, perhaps, by your good qualities, retain the heart which was at first a captive to your beauties; and when time has robbed you of the graces and the innocent cheerfulness of youth, secure a sincere and tender friend to console you in the hours of affliction, and watch over you when deprived of those charms that first made him solicitous to obtain your love. Repine not, my young readers, though your virtues be concealed in a homely form. If you have secured the virtues of the mind, you need not envy others the beauties of the face. And ye, who are decorated with every outward grace, be not vain of such fading externals; but tremble lest they should tempt the designing to lead you into error. Had you less beauteous been, you'd known less care; ETHEREGE. Neglect not. then, in the giddy hours of youth, to make your mind a fit companion for the most lovely form. Personal charms may please for a moment; but the more lasting beauties of an improved understanding and intelligent mind can never tire. We are soon weary of looking at a picture, though executed in the most masterly style: and the woman who has only beauty to recommend her, has |