stitute of judgment and
discretion herself, but despised them in others. Her lover and her muse
were to her instead of the whole world.

"After having for some years exchanged sonnets, under the names of Laura
and Petrarch, and elegies under those of Sappho and Phaon; the lover, to
whom all this had been mere sport, the gratification of vanity, and the
recreation of an idle hour grew weary.

Younger and fairer he another saw.

He drew off. Her verses were left unanswered, her reproaches unpitied.
Laura wept, and Sappho raved in vain.

"The poor girl, to whom all this visionary romance had been a serious
occupation, which had swallowed up cares and duties, now realized the
woes she had so often admired and described. Her upbraidings only served
to alienate still more the heart of her deserter; and her despair, which
he had the cruelty to treat as fictitious, was to him a subject of mirth
and ridicule. Her letters were exposed, her expostulatory verses read at
clubs and taverns, and the unhappy Sappho toasted in derision.

"All her ideal refinements now degenerated into practical improprieties.
The public avowal of her passion drew on her from the world charges
which she had not merited. Her reputation was wounded, her health
declined, her peace was destroyed. She experienced the dishonors of
guilt without its turpitude, and in the bloom of life fell, the
melancholy victim to a mistaken education and an undisciplined mind."

Mrs. Stanley dropped a silent tear to the memory of her unhappy friend,
the energies of whose mind she said would, had they been lightly
directed, have formed a fine character.

"But none of the things of which I have been speaking," resumed Mr.
Stanley, "are the great and primary objects of instruction. The
inculcation of fortitude, prudence, humility, temperance,
self-denial--this is education. These are things we endeavor to promote
far more than arts or languages. These are tempers, the habit of which
should be laid in early, and followed up constantly, as there is no day
in life which will not call them into exercise; and how can that be
practiced which has never been acquired?

"Perseverance, meekness, and industry," continued he, "are the qualities
we most carefully cherish and commend. For poor Laura's sake, I make it
a point never to extol any indications of genius. Genius has pleasure
enough in its own high aspirings. Nor am I indeed overmuch delighted
with a great blossom of ta