authoress of "Home," and of those manifold publications of the same
character, that enlighten, and bless, the youth of our age.

Nor is it in literary walks alone that this class have proved signal
benefactors of their species. In the domestic sphere, amid scenes of
sickness and affliction, how often have they proved ministering angels.
Miss Porter, I think it is, has a character in one of her works, which
she names "Aunt Rebecca," who was full of kind offices among the
families in her neighborhood, taking care of the sick, supplying the
place of absent mothers, and aiding relatives and friends with
promptness, in their times of trouble and grief. The reader is sometimes
tempted to smile at the abuses of her good nature by the selfish and
indolent; yet the character suggests to us the noble field of usefulness
allotted to many, who are often supposed to lead a course of life
contrary to nature.

Having so many virtues incident to her condition, and enjoying such
opportunities to do an amount of good, and of course to secure a degree
of happiness, denied to those in married life, why should an individual
repine at this lot? Single women, it is well known, are sometimes
envious, querulous, discontented, and restless. "Who can shew us any
good in our state?" ask some. "Providence made us, like the rest of our
sex, for love, yet we are doomed to be indifferent. It is our fate not
to be loved."

In the agony of despair such array themselves, perhaps to old age, in
attractive dresses and a profusion of jewelry, and affect the air of
young ladies. But these views and practices are founded in error.
Reflect upon the case, and you will see, that it is no more a law of God
that your sex in general should love and be loved, and should marry,
than it is that some of their number should remain single. She, who thus
considers, is prepared to inquire whether she herself may not possibly
belong to that class, and to be content in that condition, should
circumstances seem to ordain her for it.

The advice of an English lady on this point seems peculiarly pertinent.
"Let women," says she, "of a certain age beware of the affectation of
youth, if they would avoid the shipwreck of their respectability and
character. As the loveliness of girlhood fades from their cheeks, and
the liquid brilliancy of youth departs from their eyes, let them make
unto themselves charms which neither the rust nor moth of time can
corrupt; let the warmth of