om
straitened circumstances in America--the land of promise, where there is
room enough for all, and employment for every body. Yet even in that new
country, man, it appears, is born not only to those ills which flesh is
heir to, but to those which are entailed upon him by the institutions of
society. Lucretia's mother was confined by illness to her room and bed
for many months; and this child, then about twelve years old, instead
of profiting under her mother's care, had in a certain degree to supply
her place in the business of the family, and to attend, which she did
dutifully and devotedly, to her sick bed. At this time, a gentleman who
had heard much of her verses, and expressed a wish to see some of them,
was so much gratified on perusing them, that he sent her a complimentary
note, enclosing a bank-bill for twenty dollars. The girl's first joyful
thought was that she had now the means, which she had so often longed
for, of increasing her little stock of books; but, looking towards the
sick bed, tears came in her eyes, and she instantly put the bill into
her father's hands, saying, "Take it, father; it will buy many comforts
for mother; I can do without the books."

There were friends, as they are called, who remonstrated with her
parents on the course they were pursuing in her education, and advised
that she should be deprived of books, pen, ink, and paper, and
rigorously confined to domestic concerns. Her parents loved her both
too wisely and too well to be guided by such counsellors, and they
anxiously kept the advice secret from Lucretia, lest it should wound her
feelings--perhaps, also, lest it should give her, as it properly might,
a rooted dislike to these misjudging and unfeeling persons. But she
discovered it by accident, and without declaring any such intention,
she gave up her pen and her books, and applied herself exclusively to
household business, for several months, till her body as well as her
spirits failed. She became emaciated, her countenance bore marks of deep
dejection, and often, while actively employed in domestic duties, she
could neither restrain nor conceal her tears. The mother seems to have
been slower in perceiving this than she would have been had it not been
for her own state of confinement; she noticed it at length, and said,
"Lucretia, it is a long time since you have written any thing." The girl
then burst into tears, and replied, "O mother, I have given that up long
ago." "But wh