Says Miss Yonge, "If every modest woman or girl would abstain
from such books as poison, and never order or read one which makes
crime and impurity prominent, or tampers with dilemmas about the
marriage vow, there would be fewer written and published, and less
wildfire would be spread abroad." Shun the romances which centre all in
a false, unnatural affection. Oh, that they were all sunk in the ocean,
the food for obscene sharks! And, oh, that only such pure and beautiful
romances remained as picture the lives of a Hermann and a Dorothea,
or a Gabriel and an Evangeline!
But, girls, how some of you do treat the boys! No wonder they grow
conceited: you allow them to become so. Here is a girl only eighteen
years old who has an impression, such a strong impression, there is
but one praise-worthy act for a girl to do, and that is to get married.
Each new birthday will frighten her, and she will dread to be alive
and single at twenty-five. She seizes every matrimonial opportunity,
and haunts a young man like a conviction of conscience.
Here is another girl quite absorbed in the thought that a _live_
man pays her certain attentions, and she takes his conceit for grave
wisdom, and his kindness for infinite tenderness. She looks upon him
as an importation from the priesthood of the Grand Llama,--perhaps
he is the Grand Llama himself; certainly the inhabitant of a land where
young men do not grow humanly.
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