_Shewing how the method of educating daughters, makes it difficult for them to enter into the spirit of christianity; how miserably they are injured and abused by such an education; and the spirit of a better education represented in the character of |Eusebia|._
THAT turn of mind which is taught and encouraged in the _education of daughters_, makes it exceeding difficult for them to enter into such a sense and practice of true devotion, as the spirit of christianity requires.
For if it were a virtue in a woman, to be proud and vain in herself, and fond of the world; we could hardly use better means to raise these passions, than those that are now used in their education.
_Matilda_ is a fine woman, of good breeding, great sense, and has a great deal of regard for religion: she has three daughters, educated by herself; she will trust them to no one else, nor at any school, for fear they should learn any thing ill. She stays with the _dancing-master_ all the time he is with them, because she will hear every thing that is said to them. She has heard them read the _scriptures_ so often, that they can repeat great part of them without book; and there is scarce a good book of devotion, but you may find it in their closets.
Her daughters see her great zeal for religion, but then they see an equal earnestness for all sorts of finery. They are afraid to meet her, if they have missed the _church_; but then they are more afraid to see her, if they are not laced as strait as they can possibly be.
_Matilda_ is so intent upon all the arts of improving their _dress_, that she has some new fancy almost every day, and leaves no ornament untryed, from the richest jewel to the poorest flower. She is so nice and critical in her judgment, and so sensible of the smallest error, that her maid is often forced to dress and undress her daughters three or four times a day, before she can be satisfied with it.
As to the _patching_, she reserves that to herself; for she says, if they are not stuck on with judgment, they are rather a prejudice, than an advantage to the face.
The children see so plainly the temper of their mother, that they even affect to be more pleased with dress, than they really are, merely to gain her favour.
They saw the eldest sister once brought to her tears, and her perverseness severely reprimanded, for presuming to say, that she thought it was better to cover the neck, than to go so far naked as the modern dress requires.
She stints them in their meals, and is very scrupulous of what they eat and drink; and tells them how many fine shapes she has seen spoiled in her time, for want of such care. If a _pimple_ rises in their faces, she is in a great fright, and they themselves are as afraid to see her with it, as if they had committed some great sin.
Whenever they begin to look sanguine and healthy, she calls in the assistance of the _doctor_; and if physic and issues will keep the complexion from inclining to _coarse_ or _ruddy_, she thinks them well employed.
By this means they are pale, sickly, infirm creatures, vapoured through want of spirits, crying at the smallest accidents, swooning away at any thing that frightens them, and hardly able to bear the weight of their best cloaths.
The eldest daughter lived as long as she could under this discipline, and died in the twentieth year of her age. When she was opened, it appeared, that her ribs had grown into her liver, and that her other entrails were much hurt, by being crushed together with her stays, which her mother had ordered to be twitched so strait, that it often brought tears into her eyes, whilst the maid was dressing her.
Her youngest daughter is run away with a gamester, a man of great beauty, and who, in dressing and dancing, has no superior.
_Matilda_ says, she should die with grief at this accident, but that her conscience tells her, she has contributed nothing to it herself. She appeals to their closets and their books of devotion, to testify what care she has taken to establish her children in a life of solid piety and devotion.
Now, though I do not intend to say, that no daughters are brought up in a better way than this (for I hope many are) yet thus much, I believe, may be said, that the much greater part of them are not brought up so well, or accustomed to so much religion, as in the present instance.