them.
Inexperienced girls, who are not wanting in modesty, are apt to dread
going into a crowded room, from an idea that every eye will be turned
upon them; but after a while they find that nobody cares to look at
them, and that the greater the crowd, the less they are observed.
Your enjoyment of a party depends far less on what you find there, than
on what you carry with you. The vain, the ambitious, the designing, will
be full of anxiety when they go, and of disappointment when they return.
A short triumph will be followed by a deep mortification, and the
selfishness of their aims defeats itself. If you go to see and to hear,
and to make the best of whatever occurs, with a disposition to admire
all that is beautiful, and to sympathize in the pleasures of others, you
can hardly fail to spend the time pleasantly. The less you think of
yourself and your claims to attention, the better. If you are much
attended to, receive it modestly, and consider it as a happy accident;
if you are little noticed, use your leisure in observing others.
The popular belle, who is the envy of her own sex and the admiration of
the other, has her secret griefs and trials, and thinks she pays very
dearly for her popularity; while the girl who is least attended to in
crowded assemblies, is apt to think her's the only hard lot, and that
there is unmixed happiness in being a reigning belle. She, alone, whose
steady aim is to grow better and wiser every day of her life, can look
with an equal eye on both extremes. If your views are elevated, and your
feelings are ennobled and purified by communion with gifted spirits, and
with the Father of spirits, you will look calmly on the gayest scenes
of life; you will attach very little importance to the transient
popularity of a ball-room; your endeavor will be to bring home from
every visit some new idea, some valuable piece of information, or some
useful experience of life.
GOOD COMPANY.
"Good company," says Duclos, "resembles a dispersed republic: the
members of it are found in all classes. Independent of rank and station,
it exists only among those who think and feel; among those who possess
correct ideas and honorable sentiments." The higher classes, constantly
occupied with the absorbing interests of wealth and ambition, formerly
introduced into their magnificent saloons a grave and almost diplomatic
stiffness of manners, of which the solemnity banished nature and
freedom. The amusemen
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