ingenuous temper, make no part of
education, exclaims the pedagogue--they are reducible to no class--they
come under no article of instruction--they belong neither to languages
nor to music.--What an error! They _are_ a part of education, and of
infinitely more value,

Than all their pedant discipline e'er knew.

It is true, they are ranged under no class, but they are superior to
all; they are of more esteem than languages or music, for they are the
language of the heart, and the music of the according passions. Yet
this sensibility is, in many instances, so far from being cultivated,
that it is not uncommon to see those who affect more than usual
sagacity, cast a smile of supercilious pity, at any indication of a
warm, generous, or enthusiastic temper in the lively and the young; as
much as to say, "they will know better, and will have more discretion
when they are older." But every appearance of amiable simplicity, or of
honest shame, _Nature's hasty conscience_, will be dear to sensible
hearts; they will carefully cherish every such indication in a young
female; for they will perceive that it is this temper, wisely
cultivated, which will one day make her enamoured of the loveliness of
virtue, and the beauty of holiness: from which she will acquire a taste
for the doctrines of religion, and a spirit to perform the duties of it.
And those who wish to make her ashamed of this charming temper, and
seek to dispossess her of it, will, it is to be feared, give her
nothing better in exchange. But whoever reflects at all, will easily
discern how carefully this enthusiasm is to be directed, and how
judiciously its redundances are to be lopped away.

PRUDENCE is not natural to children; they can, however, substitute art
in its stead. But is it not much better that a girl should discover the
faults incident to her age, than conceal them under this dark and
impenetrable veil? I could almost venture to assert, that there is
something more becoming in the very errors of nature, where they are
undisguised, than in the affectation of virtue itself, where the reality
is wanting. And I am so far from being an admirer of prodigies, that I
am extremely apt to suspect them; and am always infinitely better
pleased with Nature in her more common modes of operation. The precise
and premature wisdom, which some girls have cunning enough to assume,
is of a more dangerous tendency than any of their natural failings can
be, as it effectu