to prolong his life. But he had written on a leaf a few lines, sufficient to give an account of his situation. The messenger returned. The king sent to the place fixed upon, and was greatly astonished to find every thing which had been demanded.

10. Powhatan could not conceive this mode of transmitting thoughts; and Captain Smith was henceforth looked upon as a great magician, to whom they could not show too much respect. He left the savages in this opinion, and hastened to return home.

11. Two or three years after, some fresh difference arising between them and the English, Powhatan, who no longer thought them sorcerers, but still feared their power, laid a horrid plan to get rid of them altogether. His project was, to attack them in profound peace, and cut the throats of the whole colony.

12. The night of this intended conspiracy, Pocahontas took advantage of the obscurity; and in a terrible storm, which kept the savages in their tents, escaped from her father's house, advised the English to be on their guard, but conjured them to spare her family, to appear ignorant of the intelligence she had given, and terminate all their differences by a new treaty.

13. It would be tedious to relate all the services which this angel of peace rendered to both nations. I shall only add, that the English, I know not from what motives, but certainly against all faith and equity, thought proper to carry her off. Long and bitterly did she deplore her fate; and the only consolation she had, was Captain Smith, in whom she found a second father.

14. She was treated with great respect, and married to a planter by the name of Rolfe, who soon after took her to England. This was in the reign of James the first; and it is said, that the monarch, pedantic and ridiculous in every point, was so infatuated with the prerogatives of royality, that he expressed his displeasure, that one of his subjects should dare to marry the daughter even of a savage king.

15. It will not perhaps be difficult to decide on this occasion, whether it was the savage king who derived honor from finding himself placed upon a level with the European prince, or the English monarch, who, by his pride and prejudices, reduced himself to a level with the chief of the savages.

16. Be that as it will, Captain Smith, who had returned to London before the arrival of Pocahontas, was extremely happy to see her again; but dared not treat her with the same familiarity as at Jamestown. As soon as she saw him, she threw herself into his arms, calling him her father; but finding that he neither returned her caresses with equal warmth, nor the endearing title of daughter, she turned aside her head, and wept bitterly; and it was a long time before they could obtain a sin gle word from her,

17. Capt. Smith inquired several times what could be the cause of her affliction. "What!" said she, "did I not save thy life in America? When 1 was torn from the arms of my father, and conducted amongst thy friends, didst thou not promise to be a father to me! Didst thou not assure me, that if I went into thy country, thou wouldst be my father, and that I should be thy daughter? Thou hast deceived me, and behold me now here, a stranger and an orphan,"

18. It was not difficult for the captain to make his peace with this charming creature, whom he tenderly loved. He presented her to several people of the first quality; but never dared to take her to court, from which, however, she received several favors.

19. After a residence of several years in England, an example of virtue and piety, and attachment to her husband, she died, as she was on the point of embarking for America. She left an only son, who was married, and left none but daughters; and from these are descended some of the principal characters in Virginia.

CHAPTER XXXII.

EMILIUS, OR DOMESTIC HAPPINESS.

1. The government of a family depends on such various and opposite principles, that it is a matter of extreme delicacy. Perhaps there is no situation in life, in which it is so difficult to behave with propriety, as in the contest between parental authority and parental love. This is undoubtedly the reason why we see so few happy families.

2. Some parents, either from a natural weakness of mind, or an excess of fondness, permit, and even encourage, their children in a thousand familiarities, which render them ridiculous, and by diminishing the respect which is due to their age and station, destroy all their authority.

3. Others, ruled by a partial and blind affection, which can deny nothing to its object, indulge their children in all their romantic wishes, however trifling and foolish; however degrading to their dignity, or injurious to their welfare.

4. Others, soured by misfortunes, or grown peevish and jealous by the loss of youthful pleasures, and an acquaintance with the deceit and folly of the world, attempt to restrain the ideas and enjoyments of youth, by the rigid maxims of age.

5. The children of the first class often offend by silly manners, and a kind of good-natured disrespect. Those of the second are generally proud, whimsical, and vicious. Those of the third, if they are subdued, when young, by the rigor of pa

rental discipline, remain morose, illiberal, and unsociable; or if, as it commonly happens, they find means to escape from restraint, they abandon themselves to every species of licentiousness.

6. To parents of these descriptions may be added another class, whose fondness blinds their eyes to the most glaring vices of their children, or invents such palliations, as to prevent the most salutary corrections.

7. The taste for amusements in young people, is the most difficult to regulate by the maxims of prudence. In this article, parents are apt to err, either by extreme indulgence on the one hand, or immoderate rigor on the other.

8. Recollecting the feelings of their youth, they give unbounded license to the inclinations of their children; or, having lost all relish for amusements, they refuse to gratify their most moderate desires.

9. It is a maxim which generally holds true, that the best method of guarding youth from criminal pleasures, is to indulge them freely in those that are innocent. A person who has free access to reputable society, will have little inclination to frequent that which is vicious.

10. But those who are kept under constant restraint, who are seldom in amusements, who are perpetually awed by the frowns of a parent, or soured by the disappointment of their most harmless wishes, will at times break over all bounds, to gratify their taste for pleasure, and will not be anxious to discriminate between the innocent and the criminal.

11. Nothing contributes more to keep youth within the limits of decorum, than to have their superiors mingle in their company at proper times, and participate of their amuse

ments.

12. This condescension flatters their pride; at the same time that respect for age, which no familiarities can wholly efface, naturally checks the extravagant sallies of mirth, and the indelicate rudenesses which young people are apt to indulge in their jovial hours.

13. That awful distance at which some parents keep their children, and their abhorrence of all juvenile diversions, which compel youth to sacrifice their most innocent desires, or veil the gratification of them with the most anxious secrecy, have as direct a tendency to drive young persons into a profligate life, as the force of vicious example.

14. It is impossible to give to the age of twenty, the feelings or the knowledge of sixty; as it would be folly to wish to clothe a child with gray hairs, or to stamp the fading aspect of autumn on the bloom of May. Nature has given to every age some peculiar passions and appetites; to moderate and refine these,

not to stifle and destroy, is the business of common prudence and parental care.

15. I was led into this train of reflections by an acquain tance with the family of Emilius, which is a rare instance of domestic felicity. Parents indulgent to their children, hospitable to their friends, and universally respected; their sons equally generous, modest, and manly.

16. Emilia, an only daughter, the pride of her parents, possessed of every accomplishment that can honor herself, or endear her to her friends; an easy fortune, and a disposition to enjoy and improve it for the purposes of humanity; perfect harmony of domestic life, and unaffected satisfaction in the pleasures of society. Such is the family of Emilius.

17. Such a family is a little paradise on earth; to envy their happiness is almost a virtue. Conjugal respect, parental tenderness, filial obedience, and brotherly kindness, are so seldom united in a family, that when I am honored with the friendship of such, I am equally ambitious to participate their happiness, and profit by the example.

18. Emilia's situation must be peculiarly agreeable. Her parents delight to gratify her in innocent amusements; and contented with this, she knows no wish beyond the sacred bounds of honor. While by their indulgence she enjoys every rational pleasure, she rewards their generous care, by a dutiful behavior and unblemished manners.

19. By thus discharging the reciprocal duties of their respective stations, the happiness of each is secured. The solicitude of the parent, and the obedience of the child, equally contribute to the bliss of the little society; the one calling forth every act of tenderness, and the other displayed in all the filial

virtues.

20. Few families are destined to be so happy as that of Emilius. Were I to choose the situation where I could pass my life with most satisfaction, it would be in this domestic circle. My house would then be the residence of delight, unmingled with the anxieties of ambition, or the regret of disappointment.

21. Every act would be dictated by love and respect: every countenance would wear the smile of complacence; and the little unavoidable troubles, incident to the happiest situation, would only serve to increase our friendship, and improve our felicity, by making room for the exercise of virtue.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

EMILIA, OR THE HAPPINESS OF RETIREMENT.

1. As I was conversing with Emilia, a few days past, I asked whether she was contented to live so remote from the resort of company. She answered in the affirmative, and remarked further, that her situation enabled her to distinguish between real friends, and complimentary; for if she lived in a more public place, she might be visited by crowds of people, who were civil indeed, but had no motive for calling on her, but to spend an idle hour, and gaze on the busy multitude.

2. I was pleased with the remark, and was naturally led to consider such a retired situation as a fortunate circumstance for a young lady of delicacy. Not only the happiness of a family, but the character of young women, both in a moral and social view, depends on the choice of proper company.

3. A perpetual throng of company, especially if it furnishes a variety of new objects, has a pernicious effect on the dispositions of female minds. Women are destined by nature to preside over domestic affairs. Whatever parade they may make abroad, their real merit and real characters are known only at home.

4. The behavior of servants, the neatness of furniture, the order of a table, and the regularity of domestic business, are decisive evidences of female worth. Perhaps sweetness of temper does not contribute more to the happiness of their partners and their families, than a proper attention to these articles.

5. For this reason, whatever has a tendency to divert the mind from these concerns, and give them a turn for empty show, endless noise, and tasteless amusements, ought to be carefully avoided by young ladies who wish for respect beyond the pre

sent moment.

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6. Misses, who are perpetually surrounded with idle company, or even live in sight of it, though they may be fortunate enough to preserve their innocence, are still in hazard of contracting such a fondness for dissipation and folly, as to unfit them for the superintendence of a family.

7. Another danger to which young women possessed of personal charms are exposed, in public places, is the flattery and admiration of men. The good opinion of a fop, will hardly flatter a woman of discernment; much less ordinary compliments, which are commonly without meaning.

8. But the heart is often so disguised, that it is difficult, at first, to distinguish between a coxcomb and a man of worth; or if it is easier for an accurate observer, yet there is great danger that vanity and inexperience will make young ladies overlook the distinction.