To return to the "Analogy." It is a book of which you cannot_The Young Lady's Mentor A Guide to the Formation of Character. In a Series of Letters to Her Unknown Friends

begin the study,--providing you, as it will do, at once with materials

for the deepest thought, and laying a safe foundation for all future

ethical studies; it is at the same time so clearly expressed, that you

will have no perplexity in puzzling out the mere external form of the

idea, instead of fixing all your attention on solving the difficulties

of the thoughts and arguments themselves. Locke on the Human

Understanding is a work that has probably been often recommended to you.

Perhaps, if you keep steadily in view the danger of his materialistic,

unpoetic, and therefore untrue philosophy, the book may do you more good

than harm; it will furnish you with useful exercise for your thinking

powers; and you will see it so often quoted as authority, on one side as

truth, on the other as falsehood, that it may be as well you should form

your own judgment of it. You should previously, however, become guarded

against any dangers that might result from your study of Locke, by

acquiring a thorough-knowledge of the philosophy of Coleridge. This will

so approve itself to your conscience, your intellect, and your

imagination, that there can be no risk of its being ever supplanted in a

mind like yours by "plebeian"[79] systems of philosophy. Few have now

any difficulty in perceiving the infidel tendencies of that of Locke,

especially with the assistance of his French philosophic followers,

(with whose writings, for the charms of style and thought, you will

probably become acquainted in future years.) They have declared what the

real meaning of his system is by the developments which they have proved

to be its necessary consequences. Let Coleridge, then, be your previous

study, and the philosophic system detailed in his various writings may

serve as a nucleus, round which all other philosophy may safely enfold

itself. The writings of Coleridge form an era in the history of the

mind; and their progress in altering the whole character of thought, not

only in this but in foreign nations, if it has been slow, (which is one

of the necessary conditions of permanence,) has been already

astonishingly extensive. Even those who have never heard of the name of

Coleridge find their habits of thought moulded, and their perceptions of

truth cleared and deepened, by the powerful influence of his

master-mind,--powerful still, though it has probably only reached them

through three or four interposing mediums. The proud boast of one of

his descendants is amply verified: "He has given the power of vision:"

and in ages yet to come, many who may unfortunately be ignorant of the

very name of their benefactor will still be profiting daily, more and

more, by the mental telescopes he has provided. Thus it is that many

have rejoiced in having the distant brought near to them, and the

confused made clear, without knowing that Jansen was the name of him who

had conferred such benefits upon mankind. The immediate artist, the

latest moulder of an original design, is the one whose skill is extolled

and depended upon; and so it is even already in the case of Coleridge.

It is those only who are intimately acquainted with him who can plainly

see, that it is by the power of vision he has conferred that the really

philosophic writers of the present day are enabled to give views so

clear and deep on the many subjects that now interest the human mind.

All those among modern authors who combine deep learning with an

enlarged wisdom, a vivid and poetical imagination with an acute

perception of the practical and the true, have evidently educated

themselves in the school of Coleridge. He well deserves the name of the

Christian Plato, erecting as he does, upon the ancient and long-tried

foundation of that philosopher's beautiful system of intuitive truths,

the various details of minor but still valuable knowledge with which the

accumulated studies of four thousand intervening years have furnished

us, at the same time harmonizing the whole by the all-pervading spirit

of Christianity.

Coleridge is truly a Christian philosopher: at the same time, however,

though it may seem a paradox, I must warn you against taking him for

your guide and instructor in theology. A Socinian during all the years

in which vivid and never-to-be-obliterated impressions are received, he

could not entirely free himself from those rationalistic tendencies

which had insensibly incorporated themselves with all his religious

opinions. He afterwards became the powerful and successful defender of

the saving truths which he had long denied; but it was only in cases

where Arianism was openly displayed, and was to be directly opposed. He

seems to have been entirely unconscious that its subtle evil tendencies,

its exaltation of the understanding above the reason, its questioning,

disobedient spirit, might all in his own case have insinuated themselves

into his judgments on theological and ecclesiastical questions. The

prejudices which are in early youth wrought into the very essence of our

being are likely to be unsuspected in exact proportion to the degree of

intimacy with which they are assimilated with the forms of our mind.

However this may be, you will not fail to observe that, in all branches

of philosophy that do not directly refer to religion, Coleridge's system

of teaching is opposed to the general character of his own theological

views, and that he has himself furnished the opponents of these peculiar

views with the most powerful arms that can be wielded against them.

Every one of Coleridge's writings should be carefully perused more than

once, more than twice; in fact, they cannot be read too often; and the

only danger of such continued study would be, that in the enjoyment of

finding every important subject so beautifully thought out for you,

natural indolence might deter you from the comparatively laborious

exercise of thinking them out for yourself. The three volumes of his

"Friend," his "Church and State," his "Lay Sermons," and "Statesman's

Manual," will each of them furnish you with most important present

information and with inexhaustible materials for future thought.

Reid's "Inquiry into the Human Mind," and Dugald Stewart's "Philosophy

of the Mind," are also books that you must carefully study. Brown's

"Lectures on Philosophy" are feelingly and gracefully written; but

unless you find a peculiar charm and interest in the style, there will

not be sufficient compensation for the sacrifice of time so voluminous a

work would involve. Those early chapters which give an account of the

leading systems of Philosophy, and some very ingenious chapters on

Memory, are perhaps as much of the book as will be necessary for you to

study carefully.

The works of the German philosopher Kant will, some time hence, serve as

a useful exercise of thought; and you will find it interesting as well

as useful to trace the resemblances and differences between the great

English and the great German philosophers, Kant and Coleridge. Locke's

small work on Education contains many valuable suggestions, and Watts on

the Mind is also well worthy your attention. It is quite necessary that

Watts' Logic should form a part of your studies; it is written

professedly for women, and with ingenious simplicity. A knowledge of the

forms of Logic is useful even to women, for the purpose of sharpening

and disciplining the reasoning powers.

Do not be startled when I further recommend to you Blackstone's

"Commentaries" and Burlamaqui's "Treatise on Natural Law." These are

books which, besides affording admirable opportunities for the exercise

of both concentrated and comprehensive thought, will fill your mind with

valuable ideas, and furnish it with very important information. Finally,

I recommend to your unceasing and most respectful study the works of

that "Prince of modern philosophers," Lord Bacon. In his great mind were

united the characteristics of the two ancient, but nevertheless

universal, schools of philosophy, the Aristotelic and the Platonic. It

is, I believe, the only instance known of such a difficult combination.

His "Essays," his "Advancement of Learning," his "Wisdom of the

Ancients," you might understand and profit by, even now. Through all the

course of an education, which I hope will only end with your life, you

cannot do better than to keep him as your constant companion and

intellectual guide.

The foregoing list of works seems almost too voluminous for any woman to

make herself mistress of; but you may trust to one who has had extensive

experience for herself and others, that the principle of "Nulla dies

sine lineâ" is as useful in the case of reading as in that of painting:

the smallest quantity of work daily performed will accomplish in a

year's time that which at the beginning of the year would have seemed to

the inexperienced a hopeless task.

As yet, I have only spoken of philosophy; there is, however, another

branch of knowledge, viz. science, which also requires great

concentration of thought, and which ought to receive some degree of

attention, or you will appear, and, what would be still worse, feel,

very stupid and ignorant with respect to many of the practical details

of ordinary life. You are continually hearing of the powers of the

lever, the screw, the wedge, of the laws of motion, &c. &c., and they

are often brought forward as illustrations even on simply literary

subjects. An acquaintance with these matters is also necessary to enter

with any degree of interest into the wonderful exhibitions of mechanical

powers which are among the prominent objects of attention in the present

day. You cannot even make intelligent inquiries, and betray a graceful,

because unwilling ignorance, without some degree of general knowledge of

science.

Among the numerous elementary works which make the task of

self-instruction pleasant and easy, none can excel, if any have

equalled, the "Scientific Dialogues" of Joyce. In these six little

volumes, you will find a compendium of all preliminary knowledge; even

these, however, easy as they are, require to be carefully studied. The

comparison of the text with the plates, the testing for yourself the

truth of each experiment, (I do not mean that you should practically

test it, except in a few easy cases, for your mind has not a sufficient

taste for science to compensate for the trouble,) will furnish you with

very important lessons in the art of fixing your attention.

"Conversations on Natural Philosophy," in one volume, by a lady, is

nearly as simple and clear as the "Scientific Dialogues;" it will serve

usefully as a successor to them. It is a great assistance to the memory

to read a different work on the same subject while the first is still

fresh in your mind. The sameness of the facts gives the additional force

of a double impression; and the variation in the mode of stating them,

always more striking when the books are the respective works of a man

and of a woman, adds the force of a trebled impression, stronger than

the two others, because there is in it more of the exercise of the

intellect, that is, on the supposition that, in accordance with the

foregoing rules, you should think over each respective statement until

you have reconciled them together by ascertaining the cause of the

variation.

I shall now proceed to those lighter branches of literature which are

equally necessary with the preceding, and which will supply you with the

current coin of the day,--very necessary for ordinary intercourse,

though, in point of real value, far inferior to the bank-stock of

philosophic and scientific knowledge which it is to be your chief object

to acquire. History is the branch of lighter literature to which your

attention should be specially directed; it provides you with

illustrations for all philosophy, with excitements to heroism and

elevation of character, stronger perhaps than any mere theory can ever

afford. The simplest story, the most objective style of narrative, will

be that best fitted to answer these purposes. Your own philosophic

deductions will be much more beneficial to your intellect than any one

else's, supposing always that you are willing to make, history a really

intellectual study.

Tytler's "Elements of History" is a most valuable book, and not an

unnecessary word throughout the whole. If you do not find getting by

heart an insuperable difficulty, you will do well to commit every line

to memory. Half a page a day of the small edition would soon lay up for

you such an extent of historic learning as would serve for a foundation

to all future attainments in this branch of study. Such outlines of

history are a great assistance in forming the comprehensive views which

are necessary on the subject of contemporaneous history: a glance at a

chart of history, or at La Voisne's invaluable Atlas, may be allowed

from time to time; but the principal arrangement ought to take place

within your own mind, for the sake of both your memory and your

intellect. Such outlines of history will, however, be very deficient in

the interest and excitement this study ought to afford you, unless you

combine with them minute details of particular periods, first, perhaps,

of particular countries.

Thus I would have Rollings Ancient History succeed the cold and dry

outlines of Tytler. Hume's History of England will serve the same

purpose relatively to the modern portion; and for the History of France,

that of Eyre Evans Crowe imparts a brilliancy to perhaps the most

uninteresting of all historic records. If that is not within your reach,

Millet's History of France, in four volumes, though dull enough, is a

safe and useful school-room book, and may be read with profit

afterwards: this, too, would possess the advantage of helping you on at

the same time, or at least keeping up your knowledge of the French

language.

It is desirable that all books from which you only want to acquire

objective information should be read in a foreign language: you thus

insensibly render yourself more permanently, and as it were habitually,

acquainted with the language in question, and carry on two studies at

the same time. If, however, you are not sufficiently acquainted with the

language to prevent any danger of a division of attention by your being

obliged to puzzle over the mere words instead of applying yourself to

the meaning of the author, you must not venture upon the attempt of

deriving a double species of knowledge from the same subject-matter: the

effect of the history as a story or picture impressed on the mind or

memory would be lost by any confusion with another object.

Sir Walter Scott's "Tales of a Grandfather" are the best history of

Scotland you could read: Robertson's may come afterwards, when you have

time.

Of Ireland and Wales you will learn enough from their constant

connection with the affairs of England. Sismondi's History of the

Italian Republics, in the Cabinet Cyclopedia, the History of the Ottoman

Empire, in Constable's Miscellany, the rapid sketches of the histories

of Germany, Austria, and Prussia, in Voltaire's Universal History, will

be perhaps quite sufficient for this second class of histories.

The third must enter into more particular details, and thus confer a

still livelier interest upon bygone days. For instance, with reference

to ancient history, you should read some of the more remarkable of

Plutarch's Lives, those of Alexander, Cæsar, Theseus, Themistocles, &c.;

the Travels of Anacharsis, the worthy results of thirty years' hard

labour of an eminent scholar:[80] the Travels of Cyrus, Telemachus,

Belisarius, and Numa Pompilius, are also, though in very different

degrees, useful and interesting. The plays of Corneille and Racine,

Alfieri, and Metastasio, on historical subjects, will make a double

impression on your memory by the excitement of your imagination. All

ought to be read about the same time that you are studying those periods

of history to which they refer. This is of much importance.

The same plan is to be pursued with reference to modern history. The

brilliant detached histories of Voltaire, Louis XIV. and XV., Charles

XII., and Peter the Great, ought to be read while the outlines of the

general history of the same period are freshly impressed on your memory.

The vivid historical pictures of De Barante are to be made the same use

of: he stands perhaps unrivalled as an objective historian.

Shakspeare's historical plays are the best accompaniment to Hume's

History of England. Our modern novels, too, will supply you with rich

and varied information, as to the manners and characters of former

times. They are a very important part of our literature, and ought to be

considered essential to the completion of your circle of study. That

they also may be rendered as useful as possible, they should be read at

the same time with the entirely true history of the period to which they

refer.

From history, I have insensibly glided into the subject of works of

fiction, one which perhaps previously requires a few words of apology;

for the strong recommendations with which I have pressed their study

upon you may sound strangely to the ears of many worthy people. In your

own enlightened and liberal mind, I do not indeed suspect the

indwelling of any such exclusive prejudices as those which forbid

altogether the perusal of works of fiction: such prejudices belong,

perhaps, to more remote periods, to those distant times when title-pages

were seen announcing "Paradise Lost, translated into prose for the

benefit of those pious souls whose consciences would not permit them to

read poetry."[81] This latter prejudice--that against poetry--seems, as

far as my observation extends, to be entirely forgotten. Fiction in this

form is now considered universally allowable; and some conscientious

persons, who would not allow themselves or others the relaxation of a

novel of any kind, will indulge unhesitatingly in the same sort of

love-stories, rendered still more exciting through the medium of poetry.

Most women, unfortunately, are incapable of carrying out the argument

from one course of action into another, or even of clearly

comprehending, when it is suggested to them, that whatever is wrong in

prose cannot be right in poetry. In a general way you will be able to

form your own judgment on this subject, by observing how much safer

prose-fiction is for yourself at times, when your feelings are excited,

and your mind unsettled and exhausted. A novel, even the most trifling

novel of fashionable life, if it has only cleverness sufficient to

engage your thoughts, would be, perhaps, a very desirable manner of

spending your time at the very period that poetry would be decidedly

injurious to you. Indeed, at all times, those who have vivid

imaginations and strong feelings should carefully guard and sparingly

indulge themselves in the perusal of poetic fictions.

If it were possible, as some say, to study poetry artistically alone,

contemplating it as a work of art, and not allowing it to excite the

affections or the passions, there is no kind of poetry that might not be

enjoyed with safety in any state of mind: it is doubtful, however,

whether any work of art ought to be so contemplated. Its excellence can

only be estimated by the degree of emotion it produces; how then can an

unimpassioned examination ever form a true estimate of its merit? When

such an inspection of any work of art can be carried through, there is

generally some fault either in the thing criticized or in the critic;

for the distinctive characteristic of art is, that it is addressed to

our _human_ nature, and excites its emotions. In the words of the great

German poet:--

Science, O man, thou sharest with higher spirits;

But art thou hast alone.

Pure science must be the same to all orders of created beings, but, as

far as our knowledge extends, the physical organization of humanity is

required for a perception of the beauties of art: therefore physical

excitement must be united with mental, in proportion as the work of art

is successful. Do not then hope ever to be able to study poetry without

a quickened pulse and a flushing cheek; you may as well leave it alone

altogether, if it produces no emotion. It must be either rhyme and no

poetry, or to you poetry can be nothing but rhyme.

Think not, however, that I do wish you to leave it alone altogether;

nothing could be farther from my purpose.

There is some old saying about fire being a good servant, but a bad

master. Now this is what I would say of the faculty of imagination, as

cultivated and excited by works of fiction in general, including, of

course, poetic fictions. As long as you can keep your imagination, even

though thus quickened and excited, under the strict control of religious

feeling--as long as you are able to prevent its rousing your temper to

an uncontrollable degree of susceptibility--as long as you can return

from an ideal world to the lowly duties of every-day life with a steady

purpose and unflinching determination, there can be no danger for you in

reading poetry. Perhaps you will, on the contrary, tell me that all this

is impossible, and, coward-like, you may prefer resigning the pleasure

to encountering the difficulties of struggling against its consequences:

but this is not the way either to strengthen your character or to form

your mind. All cultivation requires watchfulness and additional

precautions, either more or less: you must not, for the sake of a few

superable difficulties, resign the otherwise unattainable refinement

effected by poetry. Besides, its exalting and ennobling influence, if

properly understood and employed, will help you incalculably over the

rugged paths of your daily life; it will shed softening and hallowing

gleams over many things that you would otherwise find difficult to

endure, many duties otherwise too hard to fulfil; for there is poetry in

every thing that is really good and true. Happy those practical students

of its beauties who have learned to track the ore beneath the most

unpromising surfaces! Poetry, I look upon, in fact, as the most

essential, the most vital part of the cultivation of your mind, as from

its spirit your character will receive the most beneficial influence:

you must learn the double lesson of extracting it from every thing, and

of throwing it around every thing; and, for the better attainment of

this object, you must study it in itself, that you may become deeply

imbued with its spirit.

Along with the poetry of every age and of every nation, I would have you

diligently study the criticisms of the masters of the art. It is true

that the intimate knowledge of all that has been written on this

hackneyed subject will never supply the want of natural poetic taste, of

that union of mental and moral refinement which produces the only

infallible touchstone of the beautiful; still such criticisms will tend

to refine and sharpen a natural taste, where it does exist; and without

bringing its technical rules practically to bear upon the objects of

your delighted admiration,[82] they will insensibly improve, refine, and

subtilize the natural delicacy of your perceptions.

No criticisms can perhaps equal the masterly ones of Frederick Schlegel,

or those of the less powerful but not less rich mind of Augustus William

Schlegel,"--those two wonderful brothers," as a modern littérateur has

justly called them. Leigh Hunt, with perhaps more poetic originality,

but with less accuracy of æsthetical perception, will be a useful guide

to you in English poetry. Burke's "Treatise on the Sublime and

Beautiful" will give you the most correct general ideas on the subject

of taste. These are always best and most influential after they have

been for some time assimilated with the forms of the mind. It is a far

more useful exercise to apply them yourself to individual cases than

merely to lend your attention, though carefully and fixedly, to the

applications made for you by the writer. Alison's "Essay on Taste,"

though interesting and improving, saves too much trouble to the reader

in this way.

Your enjoyment and appreciation of poetry will be much heightened by

having it read aloud,--by yourself to yourself, if you should have no

To return to the "Analogy." It is a book of which you cannot too soon