g, and languages,
gratify those who teach them, by perceptible and almost immediate
effects; and when there happens to be no imbecillity in the pupil, nor
deficiency in the matter, every superficial observer can, in some
measure, judge of the progress.--The effects of most of these
accomplishments address themselves to the senses; and there are more who
can see and hear, than there are who can judge and reflect.

PERSONAL perfection is not only more obvious, it is also more rapid; and
even in very accomplished characters, elegance usually precedes
principle.

BUT the heart, that natural seat of evil propensities, that little
troublesome empire of the passions, is led to what is right by slow
motions and imperceptible degrees. It must be admonished by reproof, and
allured by kindness. Its liveliest advances are frequently impeded by
the obstinacy of prejudice, and its brightest promises often obscured by
the tempests of passion. It is slow in its acquisition of virtue, and
reluctant in its approaches to piety.

THERE is another reason, which proves this mental cultivation to be more
important, as well as more difficult, than any other part of education.
In the usual fashionable accomplishments, the business of acquiring them
is almost always getting forwards, and one difficulty is conquered
before another is suffered to shew itself; for a prudent teacher will
level the road his pupil is to pass, and smooth the inequalities which
might retard her progress.

BUT in morals, (which should be the great object constantly kept in
view) the talk is far more difficult. The unruly and turbulent desires
of the heart are not so obedient; one passion will start up before
another is suppressed. The subduing Hercules cannot cut off the heads
so often as the prolific Hydra can produce them, nor fell the stubborn
Antaeus so fast as he can recruit his strength, and rise in vigorous and
repeated opposition.

IF all the accomplishments could be bought at the price of a single
virtue, the purchase would be infinitely dear! And, however startling
it may sound, I think it is, notwithstanding, true, that the labours of
a good and wise mother, who is anxious for her daughter's most important
interests, will _seem_ to be at variance with those of her instructors.
She will doubtless rejoice at her progress in any polite art, but she
will rejoice with trembling:--humility and piety form the solid and
durable basis, on which she wishes to rais