The New Hampshire Gazette

From the CENTINEL.

MR. RUSSELL,

I observed in your paper of Saturday last, a piece of poetry, bearing the signature of "Momus," on "the Ruling Fashion," better designed than executed. Fashion is armed so strong in thoughtlessness that the shafts of raillery are unable to affect her; they are considered, like the gentle pinch of the lover on the cheek of his mistress as compliment, or are attributed either to the overflowing spleen of some secluded book-worm, or the disappointment of some slighted fopling.

The importance of the subject demands a thorough investigation; the presumption of youth may be censured, but my feelings impel me strongly to the task. - The varying follies of dress have until of late, if not harmless, been always decent, but now ladies seem to think, that the disgust of all worthy and sensible men is amply compensated by the admiration of folly, by the gaze of Cornhill. - With the fashion and attachment to the nation whence it is derived often insinuates itself: such an attachment must be fatal to that national spirit, to that love of country, which the fair sex have so great a share in inspiring; that noble feeling that dictated the command of the Grecian mother to her son, "either bring back your shield or be bro't back upon it." I am far from recommending the gymnastic exercises of the Spartan damsels, the fatal effects of which even in an age when luxury, that inciter of the passions, had not acquired so great an ascendancy as at the present day, every one knows who is conversant with ancient history.

The present mode of dress is ruinous to the health. One of our most eminent physicians says, that in the course of his practice he never has known so many young women in a consumptive way before.

The education that is now given to young ladies, is almost entirely useless. Let us examine it. A lady must dance elegantly, that she may appear gracefully at the ball. She must dedicate her time principally to books, that she may not be silent through necessity on any topic of conversation, or in any company. She must be a perfect mistress of music: Music is indeed in a lovely woman an amiable accomplishment; it is an heavenly art that softens the soul and subdues the tumultuous passions, but it becomes culpable when the too eager pursuit of it involves the neglect of important duties. The study of the French is perhaps less advantageous than dangerous. These with drawing and a little needlework, constitute the system of modern female education. - Let us continue our investigation, and find how far these polite accomplishments will be useful, or render their possessor happy in life. When she makes her appearance in the ball room, the hearts of beaux bow in her presence like the weeds before the wind; all are anxious to gain her for a partner and fulsome compliments are poured forth in profusion. But even in this haunt of pleasure some mortification generally destroys the satisfaction of her triumph. Endowed with a memory more capable of receiving impressions, less of retaining them than man's, her literary acquirements must be rather brilliant than solid, and though persons of superficial knowledge may applaud her taste and genius, yet her vanity thus inflated may lead her to expose herself before men of real learning. Her drawings may, by portraying the sublime or beautiful scenes of nature delight the eye, the melody of her music may enchant the ear, but their effect must be entirely destroyed by the reflection, that the time dedicated to them was stolen from her duty.

Should she be placed at the head of a family, even in her most splendid entertainments her guests may be disgusted and herself mortified by what a little domestic knowledge would have prevented. But this compared with most fatal effects of domestic ignorance is trifling. The ordinary wants of a family would without prudence, soon dissipate a fortune; without domestic knowledge, domestic prudence cannot be expected. How soon then when every species of luxury is added, how soon must the agonized mother, behold her famished offspring holding up their little hands to implore that help which it is impossible for her to give them. How can she look upon the husband her imprudence has ruined. In the lowly vale of poverty, her accomplishments will be overlooked, and she must prepare herself for those taunts and sneers, with which despicable souls never fail to add wretchedness to affliction. Under these circumstances what power is there to withhold her hand from giving life the fatal blow? Religion only can, but with its consolation and its precious promises she is totally unacquainted, she has despised its dictates and its teachers, the thought of it adds only despair.

Should her children survive, poverty, temptation, perhaps infamy await them. Nor is this all, in spite of pretended infidelity, or sophistical philosophy, it is a truth established on the most convincing proofs that "there is another and a better world;" imagination shrinks from the task, her greatest efforts are unable to portray the shadow of the horror that must seize her, when before assembled worlds, neglect of duty, the ruin of her children, and the punishment of her crime stare her in the face. - The picture is not too much darkened, it bears the features of melancholy truth.

ALCANDER.