tent and blind indulgence. Unable to educate her ſons, or impreſs them with reſpect; for it is not a play on words to aſſert, that people are never reſpected, though filling an important ſtation, who are not reſpectable; ſhe pines under the anguiſh of unavailing impotent regret. The ſerpent's tooth enters into her very ſoul, and the vices of licentious youth bring her with ſorrow, if not with poverty alſo, to the grave.
This is not an overcharged picture; on the contrary, it is a very poſſible caſe, and ſomething ſimilar muſt have fallen under every attentive eye.
I have, however, taken it for granted, that ſhe was well-diſpoſed, though experience ſhews, that the blind may as eaſily be led into a ditch as along the beaten road. But ſuppoſing no very improbable conjecture, that a being only taught to pleaſe muſt ſtill find her happineſs in pleaſing;—what an example of folly, not to ſay vice, will ſhe be to her innocent daughters! The mother will be loſt in the coquette, and inſtead of making friends of her daughters, view them with eyes aſkance, for they are rivals—rivals more cruel than any other, becauſe they invite a compariſon, and drive her from the throne of beauty, who has never thought of a ſeat on the bench of reaſon.
It does not require a lively pencil, or the diſcriminating outline of a caricature, to ſketch the domeſtic miſeries and petty vices which ſuch a miſtreſs of a family diffuſes. Still ſhe only acts as a woman ought to act, brought up according to Rouſſeau's ſyſtem. She can never be re-
