FOOTNOTES:
[3] Pliny, who gave this advice, lived long before the invention of printing; if such a precaution were necessary then, what would he say now?
[4] When the president has no wife, or daughter, at Washington, the lady of the highest officer in the cabinet presides at the mansion on all state occasions.
CHAP. IX.
BEAUTY.—DRESS.—GENTILITY.
Wherever there is hypocrisy, or an apparent necessity for hypocrisy, there is something wrong. In the management of children, are we sincere on the subject of beauty? When we see a handsome person, or a handsome animal, they hear us eagerly exclaim, ‘Oh, how beautiful!’ ‘What a lovely creature!’ ‘What pretty eyes!’ ‘What a sweet mouth!’ &c. Yet when children say anything about beauty, we tell them it is of no value at all—that they must not think anything about beauty—‘handsome is that handsome does,’ &c.
The influence would be very contradictory, did not the eagerness of our exclamations and the coldness of our moral lessons both tend to the same result; they both give children an idea that the subject is of great importance. ‘Mother tells me beauty is of no consequence, because she thinks I shall be vain; but I am sure she and everybody else seem to think it is of consequence,’ said a shrewd little girl of ten years old.
It certainly is natural to admire beauty, whether it be in human beings, animals, or flowers; it is a principle implanted within the human mind, and we cannot get rid of it. Beauty is the outward form of goodness; and that is the reason we love it instinctively, without thinking why we love it. The truth is, beauty is really of some consequence; but of very small consequence compared with good principles, good feelings, and good understanding. In this manner children ought to hear it spoken of. There should be no affected indifference on this or any other subject. If a child should say, ‘Everybody loves Jane Snow—she is so pretty,’ I would answer, ‘Is Jane Snow a good, kind little girl? I should be pleased with her pretty face, and should want to kiss her, when I first saw her; but if I found she was cross and selfish, I should not love her; and I should not wish to have her about me.’ In this way the attention will be drawn from the subject of beauty, to the importance of goodness; and there is no affectation in the business—the plain truth is told. We do love beauty at first sight; and we do cease to love it, if it be not accompanied by amiable qualities.
Beauty is so much more obvious than the qualities of the mind and heart, and meets so much more of spontaneous admiration, that we should be very much on our guard against increasing the value of a gift, which is almost unavoidably over-rated. But we must remember that our common and involuntary modes of speaking are what form the opinions of a child; moral maxims have little, or no effect, if they are in opposition to our usual manner of speaking and acting. For this reason, I would never call attention to beauty; and if dwelt upon with delighted eagerness by others, I would always remark, ‘She looks as if she had a sweet disposition, or a bright mind,’—thus leading the attention from mere outward loveliness to moral and intellectual beauty. I would even avoid constantly urging a child to put on a bonnet, lest she should be tanned. I should prefer the simple reason, ‘It is proper to wear a bonnet out of doors; don’t you know mother always wears one, when she goes out?’ I would rather a girl should have her face tanned and freckled by heat, than have her mind tanned and freckled by vanity.
Perhaps there is no gift with which mortals are endowed, that brings so much danger as beauty, in proportion to the usefulness and happiness it produces. It is so rare for a belle to be happy, or even contented, after the season of youth is past, that it is considered almost a miracle. If your daughter is handsome, it is peculiarly necessary that she should not be taught to attach an undue importance to the dangerous gift; and if she is plain, it certainly is not for her happiness to consider it as a misfortune.
For the reasons above given, I would restrain myself in expressing admiration of beauty; and when others expressed it, I would always ask, ‘Is she good?’ ‘Is she amiable?’ &c. I would even act upon this system toward a very little child. I would not praise the beauty of his kitten; and if he himself said, ‘Oh, what a pretty puss! How I love her!’ I would answer, ‘She is a pretty puss, and a good puss. If she were cross, and scratched me every time I touched her, I should not love her, though her fur is so pretty.’ All this caution is perfectly consistent with truth. I would never say that beauty was of no consequence in my opinion; because I could not say it truly.
With regard to dress, as in most other cases, a medium between two extremes is desirable. A love of finery and display is a much more common fault than neglect of personal appearance; both should be avoided. Some parents teach their children to judge everybody’s merit by their dress; they do not of course say it, in so many direct words—but their influence produces that effect. What else can be the result of hearing such expressions as the following?—‘Mr. —— is very much of a gentleman; he is always remarkably well dressed.’ ‘Is such a lady a desirable acquaintance? I presume she is; for she is always very genteelly dressed.’
There are some people, who go to the opposite extreme, and represent any attention to dress as unworthy of a strong mind; becoming costume is in their eyes a mark of frivolity. I hardly know which of the two extremes is the worse. Extravagance in dress does great mischief both to fortune and character; but want of neatness, and want of taste are peculiarly disgusting. If finery betrays a frivolous mind, sluttishness and bad taste certainly betray an ill-regulated one. Neatness and taste naturally proceed from a love of order. A mother should not talk about dress, for the same reasons that she should not talk about beauty; but she should be careful to have her own dress always neat, and well-fitted, and to show a pure and delicate taste in the choice of colors. By these means, children will form the habit of dressing well, without ever thinking much about it; the habit will be so early formed, that it will seem like a gift of nature. Miss Hamilton gives, in one short sentence, all that can be said upon the subject; she says, ‘Always dress in good taste; but let your children see that it employs very little of your time, less of your thoughts, and none at all of your affections.’
The wish to place children in as good society as possible is natural and proper; but it must be remembered that genteel society is not always good society. If your manners and conversation imply more respect for wealth than for merit, your children, of course, will choose their acquaintance and friends according to the style they can support, not according to character. Let your family see that you most desire the acquaintance of those who have correct principles, good manners, and the power of imparting information. I have heard mothers say, ‘To be sure Mr. and Mrs. —— do not bear a very good character; but they live in a great deal of style; they give beautiful parties; and it is very convenient to have the friendship of such people.’ What sort of morality can be expected of a family who have been accustomed to such maxims? What heartless, selfish, unprincipled beings are formed by such lessons! If they do not succeed in attaining the splendor they have been taught to covet, they will be envious, jealous, and miserable; if they do attain it, the most that can be said is, they will spend their thousands in trying to appear happy before the world.
Human ambition and human policy labor after happiness in vain; goodness is the only foundation to build upon. The wisdom of past ages declares this truth, and our own observation confirms it; all the world acknowledge it; yet how few, how very few, are willing to act upon it! We say we believe goodness is always happiness, in every situation of life, and that happiness should be our chief study; we know that wealth and distinction do not bring happiness; but we are anxious our children should possess them, because they appear to confer enjoyment. What a motive for immortal beings!
If the inordinate love of wealth and parade be not checked among us, it will be the ruin of our country, as it has been, and will be, the ruin of thousands of individuals. What restlessness, what discontent, what bitterness, what knavery and crime, have been produced by this eager passion for money! Mothers! as you love your children, and wish for their happiness, be careful how you cherish this unquiet spirit, by speaking and acting as if you thought wealth the greatest good. Teach them to consider money valuable only for its use; and that it confers respectability only when it is used well. Teach them to regard their childish property as things held in trust for the benefit and pleasure of their companions—that the only purpose of having anything to call their own is that they may use it for the good of others. If this spirit were more inculcated, we should not hear children so often say, ‘Let that alone; it is mine, and you sha’n’t have it.’ Neither should we see such an unprincipled scrambling for wealth—such willingness to cast off the nearest and dearest relations in the pursuit of fashion—such neglect of unfortunate merit—and such servile adulation to successful villany. I will not mention religion,—for its maxims have nothing in common with worldly and selfish policy,—I will simply ask what republicanism there is in such rules of conduct?
But there are always two sides to a question. If it is pernicious to make money and style the standard of respectability, it is likewise injurious and wrong to foster a prejudice against the wealthy and fashionable. If we experience the slightest degree of pleasure in discovering faults or follies in those above us, there certainly is something wrong in our own hearts. Never say to your family, ‘Such a one feels above us’—‘Such a one is too proud to come and see us’—&c. In the first place, perhaps it is not true; (for I know by experience that the poor are apt to be unreasonably suspicious of the rich; they begin by being cold and proud to their wealthy acquaintance, for fear the wealthy mean to be cold and proud to them;) and even if it be true that a rich neighbor is haughty, or even insolent, you should be careful not to indulge bad passions, because he does. Your business is with your own heart—keep that pure—and measure out to the rich man, as well as the poor man, just as much of respect and regard as their characters deserve, and no more.
Do not suffer your mind to brood over the external distinctions of society. Neither seek nor avoid those who are superior in fortune; meet them on the same ground as you do the rest of your fellow-creatures. There is a dignified medium between cringing for notice, and acting like a cat that puts up her back and spits, when no dog is coming.
Perhaps I say more on this subject than is necessary or useful. I am induced to say it, from having closely observed the effect produced on society by the broad and open field of competition in this country. All blessings are accompanied with disadvantages; and it is the business of the judicious to take the good and leave the evil. In this country, every man can make his own station. This is indeed a blessing. But what are some of the attendant dangers? Look at that parent, who is willing to sacrifice her comfort, her principles, nay, even her pride, for the sake of pushing her children into a little higher rank of life.
Look at another, too independent for such a course.
Hear how he loves to rail about the aristocracy—how much pleasure he takes in showing contempt of the rich. Is his own heart right? I fear not. I fear that unbending independence, so honorable in itself, is mixed with a baser feeling. The right path is between extremes. I would never creep under a door, neither would I refuse to enter when it was opened wide for my reception.
Poverty and wealth have different temptations, but they are equally strong. The rich are tempted to pride and insolence; the poor to jealousy and envy. The envious and discontented poor invariably become haughty and overbearing when rich; for selfishness is equally at the bottom of these opposite evils. Indeed, it is at the bottom of all manner of evils.
CHAP. X.
MANAGEMENT DURING THE TEENS.
The period from twelve to sixteen years of age is extremely critical in the formation of character, particularly with regard to daughters. The imagination is then all alive, and the affections are in full vigor, while the judgment is unstrengthened by observation, and enthusiasm has never learned moderation of experience. During this important period, a mother cannot be too watchful. As much as possible, she should keep a daughter under her own eye; and, above all things, she should encourage entire confidence towards herself. This can be done by a ready sympathy with youthful feelings, and by avoiding all unnecessary restraint and harshness. I believe it is extremely natural to choose a mother in preference to all other friends and confidants; but if a daughter, by harshness, indifference, or an unwillingness to make allowance for youthful feeling, is driven from the holy resting place, which nature has provided for her security, the greatest danger is to be apprehended. Nevertheless, I would not have mothers too indulgent, for fear of weaning the affections of children. This is not the way to gain the perfect love of young people; a judicious parent is always better beloved, and more respected, than a foolishly indulgent one. The real secret is, for a mother never to sanction the slightest error, or imprudence, but at the same time to keep her heart warm and fresh, ready to sympathize with all the innocent gaiety and enthusiasm of youth. Salutary restraint, but not unnecessary restraint, is desirable.
I will now proceed to state what appears to me peculiarly important at the age I have mentioned; and I trust the hints I may suggest will prove acceptable to judicious parents. Heedlessness is so commonly the fault of the teens, that I shall first mention the great importance of habits of order, and neatness. The drawers, trunks and work-box of a young lady should be occasionally inspected, for the purpose of correcting any tendency to wastefulness, or sluttishness. Particular care should be taken of the teeth; they should be washed with a clean brush and water at least twice a day; to cleanse them just before retiring to rest promotes sweetness of breath, and tends to preserve them from decay. Buttons off, muslins wrinkled, the petticoat below the edge of the gown, shoe-strings broken, and hair loose and straggling, should never pass unnoticed. Serious advice from a father on these subjects does more good than anything else. Smooth, well arranged hair, and feet perfectly neat, give a genteel, tasteful appearance to the whole person.
A dress distinguished for simplicity and freshness is abundantly more lady-like than the ill-placed furbelows of fashion. It is very common to see vulgar, empty-minded people perpetually changing their dresses, without ever acquiring the air of a gentlewoman. If there is simplicity in the choice of colors,—if clothes fit well, and are properly pinned, tied and arranged,—if they always have a neat, fresh look,—and above all, if the head and the feet are always in order,—nothing more is required for a perfectly lady-like appearance.
Nothing tends to produce a love of order so much as the very early habits of observation, and attention to trifles, which I have so particularly urged in various parts of this book. I would teach a daughter to observe such trifling things as the best manner of opening a new piece of tape; and I would take every precaution to conquer the spirit that leads young people to say ‘I don’t care,’ ‘No matter how it is done,’—&c.
I have, in a previous chapter, spoken of the effect which habits of observation have upon politeness of manner; and I cannot, while speaking of an age peculiarly liable to affectation, pass by the subject of good manners without saying a few words more concerning that most disgusting and injurious fault. Let all your influence be exerted to check the slightest appearance of affectation. No matter whether it be affectation of goodness, of learning, of sentimentality, of enthusiasm, of simplicity, or of gracefulness.—It will start up in a multitude of new forms, like the fabled heads of the hydra—but cut them off unsparingly. This fault, with its most artful covering, is easily detected; nature has a quiet sincerity about her, that cannot be mistaken, or counterfeited. An absence of all anxiety to appear well, is the very surest way to be attractive. An entire forgetfulness of self, and a good-natured wish to oblige and amuse others, produce a feeling of ease in company, and more effectually give the stamp of refined society, than all the affectation and finery in the world. Bashfulness is very unbecoming and awkward, while modesty is peculiarly fascinating to every one. People are bashful when they are thinking about themselves and are anxious to appear well; they are modest when they forget themselves, and are simply willing to do what they can to make others happy. Proud people, unless they have long been accustomed to taking the lead in society, are very apt to be bashful; modesty and humility generally go together. Selfishness is the cause of bashfulness, as well as of more serious evils.
Habits of order should be carried into expenses. From the time children are twelve years old, they should keep a regular account of what they receive, and what they expend. This will produce habits of care, and make them think whether they employ their money usefully. It is an excellent plan for a father, at the beginning of the year, to state what he is willing each child, older than twelve, should expend per quarter. At first, the greater part might be under a mother’s direction, for clothes, and other necessaries; and only a small portion be at the disposal of the child. In this way, a father knows certainly what he expends for each; and domestic discord is not likely to be produced by bills unexpectedly large. When the arrangement is once made, nothing should be added; the idea of being helped out of difficulties brought on by thoughtlessness and extravagance, would defeat the express purpose of an allowance. A mother can generally tell very nearly what it is necessary and proper for a daughter to expend yearly; if you find you really have not allowed enough, make larger provision the next year; but never add to what was originally agreed upon, except under very extraordinary circumstances. At sixteen years of age, or perhaps sooner, where there is great maturity of character, a young lady may be profited by being trusted with the whole of her allowance, to spend at discretion; always, however, rendering an exact account to her parents, at the end of the year.
Some may think such a system could be pursued only by the wealthy; but it is no matter whether the quarterly allowance is fifty dollars, or fifty cents—the principle is the same. The responsibility implied by such trust gives children more self-respect, and self-command; it helps them to remember how much they owe to the generosity of parents; and checks their heedlessness in the expenditure of money. But its most important use is in teaching them to be really benevolent. Children who go to a parent and ask for things to give away, may know what kind impulses are, but they know nothing about real benevolence of principle. True generosity is a willingness to deny ourselves for the benefit of others—to give up something of our own, that we really like, for the sake of doing good. If a child has a quarter of a dollar a month to expend, and gives half of it to a poor sick neighbor, instead of laying it up to buy a book, or a trinket, he knows more of real benevolence, than could be taught by all the books and maxims in the world. When you know of any such action, let a child see that it increases your affection and respect. Do not let the hurry of business, or the pressure of many cares, keep you from expressing marked approbation. Human nature is weak, and temptation strong. Young people need to be cheered onward in the path of goodness; and they should never be disappointed in the innocent expectation of giving pleasure to a parent. But do not praise them in the presence of others; and do not say much about it, as if it were any great thing—merely treat them with unusual affection and confidence. Do not compensate their benevolence by making them presents. This will lead them into temptation. It will no longer be self-denial in them to give; for they will be sure they shall lose nothing in the end. They should learn to take pleasure in losing their own gratifications for the benefit of others.
One very good effect resulting from keeping an exact account of expenses, had well nigh escaped my memory. Should your daughter ever become a wife, this habit will enable her to conform more easily to her husband’s income. A great deal of domestic bitterness has been produced by a wife’s not knowing, or not thinking, how much she expends. Every prudent man wishes to form some calculation about the expenses of his family; and this he cannot do, if a wife keeps no accounts, or keeps them irregularly.
In connexion with this subject, I would urge the vast importance of a thorough knowledge of arithmetic among women. It is a study that greatly tends to strengthen the mind, and produce careful habits of thought; and no estate can be settled without it. In England and France, it is no uncommon thing for the wife of a great manufacturer or merchant to be his head clerk.
An American lady, now residing in Paris, is said to be an invaluable partner to her wealthy husband, on account of her perfect knowledge of his extensive business, and the exact and judicious manner in which she conducts affairs during his absence. I do not wish to see American women taking business out of the hands of men; but I wish they were all capable of doing business, or settling an estate, when it is necessary. For this purpose, a very thorough knowledge of book-keeping should be attained; both the old and the new system should be learned. Nor should a general knowledge of the laws connected with the settlement of estates be neglected. Every young person ought to be well acquainted with the contents of Sullivan’s Political Class-Book. Many a widow and orphan has been cheated in consequence of ignorance on these subjects.
Should your daughter never have an estate to settle, or business to transact, her knowledge of arithmetic, book-keeping and penmanship may be valuable to her as a means of support. I do think children should be brought up with a dread of being dependent on the bounty of others. Some young ladies think it a degradation to support themselves; and to avoid it, they are willing to stay with any relation, who will furnish them a home. This is not indulging a right spirit. We ought to be resigned and cheerful in a dependent situation, when we cannot possibly provide for ourselves; but a willingness to burthen others, when we can help it by a little exertion, is not resignation—it is mere pride and indolence. Next to a love of usefulness, knowledge should be valued because it multiplies our resources in case of poverty. This unwillingness to subsist on the bounty of others should not be taught as a matter of pride, but of principle; it should proceed from an unwillingness to take away the earnings of others, without rendering some equivalent, and a reluctance to share what properly belongs to the more unfortunate and needy. There is nothing selfish in this. It springs from a real regard to the good of others.
I would make it an object so to educate children that they could, in case of necessity, support themselves respectably. For this reason, if a child discovered a decided talent for any accomplishment, I would cultivate it, if my income would possibly allow it. Everything we add to our knowledge, adds to our means of usefulness. If a girl have a decided taste for drawing, for example, and it be encouraged, it is a pleasant resource, which will make her home agreeable, and lessen the desire for company and amusements; if she marry, it will enable her to teach her children without the expense of a master; if she live unmarried, she may gain a livelihood by teaching the art she at first learned as a mere gratification of taste. The same thing may be said of music and a variety of other things, not generally deemed necessary in education. In all cases it is best that what is learned should be learned well. In order to do this, good masters should be preferred to cheap ones. Bad habits, once learned, are not easily corrected. It is far better that children should learn one thing thoroughly, than many things superficially. Make up your mind how much you can afford to spend for one particular thing; and when you have decided that, spend it as far as it will go in procuring really good teachers. I believe this to be the best economy in the end. It is better to take twelve lessons from a first rate French teacher, than to take a hundred from one who does not know how to speak the language; because in the latter case, bad habits of pronunciation will be learned, and probably never corrected. The same thing is true of all kinds of knowledge, solid or ornamental.
While speaking of acquirements, I would again urge the great necessity of persevering in whatever pursuits are commenced. Time, talent, and money, are often shamefully wasted by learning a variety of things imperfectly, because they prove more difficult than was at first imagined; and what is worst of all, every individual instance of this kind, strengthens the pernicious habit of being easily discouraged at obstacles. A young lady should be very sure she knows her own mind before she begins any pursuit; but when it is once begun, it should be an unalterable law that she must persevere.
Perhaps some parents of moderate fortune will ask if there is no danger of unfitting girls for the duties of their station, and making them discontented with their situation in life, by teaching them accomplishments merely ornamental. For myself, I do not believe that any kind of knowledge ever unfitted a person for the discharge of duty, provided that knowledge was acquired from a right motive. It is wonderful what different results the same thing will produce, when the motives are different. No matter what is learned, provided it be acquired as a means of pleasing a parent, of becoming useful to others, or of acquiring a necessary support. If you induce children to learn any particular thing for the sake of showing off, or being as grand as their neighbors, then, indeed, you will unfit them for their duties, and make them discontented with their situation. Looking to others for our standard of happiness is the sure way to be miserable. Our business is with our own hearts, and our own motives. When I say that a decided talent for any pursuit should be encouraged, I do not mean that every whim and caprice should be indulged. Mothers often talk about giving their daughters a taste for music, and a taste for painting, when in fact they only wish to excite in them a silly ambition to have as many accomplishments to show off, as other girls have. The consequence is, such families undertake to do a multitude of things, and do nothing well. A good deal of money is spent to very little purpose; for such young ladies do not really take pleasure in their employments; and if left destitute, they could not teach what they do not half understand.
My idea is this—First, be sure that children are familiar with all the duties of their present situation; at the same time, by schools, by reading, by conversation, give them as much solid knowledge as you can,—no matter how much, or of what kind,—it will come in use some time or other; and lastly, if your circumstances are easy, and you can afford to indulge your children in any matter of taste, do it fearlessly, without any idea that it will unfit them for more important duties. Neither learning nor accomplishments do any harm to man or woman if the motive for acquiring them be a proper one; on the contrary, those who know most, are apt to perform their duties best—provided the heart and the conscience have been educated as well as the understanding. I believe a variety of knowledge (acquired from such views as I have stated) would make a man a better servant, as well as a better president; and make a woman a better wife, as well as a better teacher. A selfish use of riches leads to avarice, pride, and contempt of manual exertion; a selfish use of knowledge leads to pedantry, affectation, unwillingness to conform to others, and indolence in any pursuit not particularly pleasing to ourselves. But the fault is not in the riches, or the knowledge—the difficulty lies in the selfish use of these advantages. If both were held in trust, as a means of doing good, how different would be the result! For this reason, I should never wish children to learn anything because some of their companions were learning it. I would always offer present or future usefulness as a motive. For instance, if a daughter were very desirous of learning music, I would ask her why she desired it. If she answered, or if I had reason to think, it was because some one else was learning it, I would at once discountenance it, by telling her the motive was a very poor one; but if she said she wished too learn, because she loved it very much, I would readily enter into her wishes, and promise to ask her father’s permission. If the request were granted, I would say, ‘You know we are not rich enough to have good music-masters for all of you; but your father is willing to expend more upon you than he could otherwise afford, from the idea that you will learn carefully and thoroughly, and thus be able to teach your brothers and sisters. At some future time your music may perhaps be the means of supporting yourself and doing good to others. You can likewise bring it into immediate use; for you will very soon be able to amuse your father in return for this kind indulgence.’
I have known young ladies, on whom a good deal had been expended, who more than repaid their parents by their assistance in educating younger branches of the family; and is not such a preparation likely to make the duties of a mother more pleasant and familiar to them? In some cases the acquirements and industry of one branch of the family have served to educate and bring forward all the rest; is not such a power, well-used, extremely conducive to kindness and benevolence?
It is certainly very desirable to fit children for the station they are likely to fill, as far as a parent can judge what that station will be. In this country, it is a difficult point to decide; for half our people are in a totally different situation from what might have been expected in their childhood. However, one maxim is as safe as it is true—i. e. A well informed mind is the happiest and the most useful in all situations. Every new acquirement is something added to a solid capital. To imitate every passing fashion is a very different thing from gaining knowledge. To thrum a few tunes upon a piano, and paint a few gaudy flowers, does not deserve to be spoken of as a part of education;—a fashionable scarf, or a bright ribbon, might as well be called so. I would never have music, painting, &c., learned at all, unless they could be learned perfectly, and practised with real good taste; and here I would make the passing remark, that a well-cultivated, observing mind, is most likely to be tasteful in all the lighter and more ornamental branches. The sure way to succeed in anything is to cultivate the intellectual faculties, and keep the powers of attention wide awake. If the mental faculties are kept vigorous by constant use, they will excel in anything to which their strength is applied. I think it is peculiarly unwise to sacrifice comfort, benevolence, or the more solid branches of learning, to any of the elegant arts; but when you can attain all these and a little more, it is much better to spend the surplus in giving your children a new pleasure, and an additional resource against poverty, than it is to expend it in superfluous articles of dress, or furniture. The same remarks that apply to music, drawing, &c., apply to a variety of things, that may be acquired at little or no expence—such as braiding straw, working muslin, doing rug-work, &c.—I would teach a child to learn every innocent thing, which it is in her power to learn. If it is not wanted immediately, it can be laid by for future use. I have a strong partiality for those old-fashioned employments, marking and rug-work. The formation of the figures, counting the threads, and arranging the colors, require a great deal of care; and the necessity of close attention is extremely salutary to young people.
Important as a love of reading is, there are cases where it ought to be checked. It is mere selfishness and indolence to neglect active duties for the sake of books; we have no right to do it. Children of a languid and lazy temperament are sometimes willing to devote all their time to reading, for the sake of avoiding bodily exertion; such a tendency should be counteracted by endeavoring to interest them in active duties and amusements. ‘Particular pains should be taken to induce them to attend to the feelings of others. Whatever services and attentions they exact from others, they should be obliged in their turn to pay.’ Out of door exercise, frequent walks, and a lively attention to the beauties of nature, are very beneficial to such dispositions. On the contrary, those who have no love for quiet, mental pleasures, should be attracted by interesting books and entertaining conversation. A mother needs to be something of a philosopher.—In other, and better words, she needs a great deal of practical good sense, and habits of close observation.
With regard to what is called a natural genius for any particular employment, I think it should be fostered, wherever it is decidedly shown; but great care should be taken to distinguish between a strong natural bias and the sudden whims and caprices, to which companions, or accidental circumstances, have given birth. No doubt each individual has the gift to do some one particular thing better than others, if he could but discover what that gift is. We all do best what we strongly love to do. I believe the perfect and entire union of duty and inclination in our employments constitutes genius. Men seldom become very great in any pursuit they do not love with the whole heart and soul; and since this is the way to arrive at the greatest perfection, it is very desirable to find out the bias of character in early life. This is not to be done by asking questions; but by quietly observing what a child most delights in, and what he asks about most frequently and eagerly.
With regard to lessons, reading, and work, the attention of children should be kept awake by talking with them, asking questions on the subject, and showing them the best and most convenient methods of doing whatever they are about; but great care should be taken not to help them too much. No more assistance than is absolutely necessary should be given.—Leave them to their own ingenuity. Young people will always be helpless, if they are not obliged to think and do for themselves.
With regard to the kind of books that are read, great precaution should be used. No doubt the destiny of individuals has very often been decided by volumes accidentally picked up and eagerly devoured at a period of life when every new impression is powerful and abiding. For this reason, parents, or some guardian friends, should carefully examine every volume they put into the hands of young people. In doing this, the disposition and character of the child should be considered. If a bold, ambitious boy is dazzled by the trappings of war, and you do not wish to indulge his disposition to be a soldier, avoid placing in his way fascinating biographies of military heroes; for the same reason do not strengthen a restless, roving tendency by accounts of remarkable voyages and adventures. I do not mean to speak disparagingly of Voyages and Travels; I consider them the best and most attractive books in the world; I merely suggest a caution against strengthening any dangerous bias of character.
A calm, steady temperament may be safely indulged in reading works of imagination,—nay, perhaps requires such excitement to rouse it sufficiently,—but an excitable, romantic disposition should be indulged sparingly in such reading. To forbid all works of fiction cannot do good. There is an age when all mortals, of any sense or feeling, are naturally romantic and imaginative. This state of feeling, instead of being violently wrestled with, should be carefully guided and restrained, by reading only the purest and most eloquent works of fiction. The admirable and unfortunate Lady Russell, in a letter, written on the anniversary of her husband’s execution, says, ‘At such seasons I do not contend with frail nature, but keep her as innocent as I can.’ This rule may be wisely applied to that period of life when young people, from the excess of mental energy, and the riot of unwearied fancy, are most bewitched to read novels.
Never countenance by word or example that silly affected sensibility which leads people to faint or run away at the sight of danger or distress. If such a habit is formed, try to conquer it by reasoning, and by direct appeals to good feeling. Nothing can be more selfish than to run away from those who are suffering, merely because the sight is painful. True sensibility leads us to overcome our own feelings for the good of others.
Great caution should be used with regard to the habits of talking in a family. Talk of things rather than of persons, lest your children early imbibe a love of gossipping. Particularly avoid the habit of speaking ill of others. We acquire great quickness of perception in those things to which we give attention in early life; and if we have been in the habit of dwelling on the defects of others, we shall not only be ill-natured in our feelings, but we shall actually have the faculty of perceiving blemishes much more readily than virtues. This tendency always to look on the black side is a very unfortunate habit, and may often be traced to the influences around us in childhood.
Some people fly to the opposite extreme. From the idea of being charitable, they gloss over everything, and make no distinction between vice and virtue. This is false charity. We should not speak well of what we do not believe to be good and true. We may avoid saying anything of persons, unless we can speak well of them; but when we are obliged to discuss a subject, we should never in the least degree palliate and excuse what we know to be wrong.
It is a great mistake to think that education is finished when young people leave school. Education is never finished. Half the character is formed after we cease to learn lessons from books; and at that active and eager age it is formed with a rapidity and strength absolutely startling to think of. Do you ask what forms it? I answer the every-day conversation they hear, the habits they witness, and the people they are taught to respect. Sentiments thrown out in jest, or carelessness, and perhaps forgotten by the speaker as soon as uttered, often sink deeply into the youthful mind, and have a powerful influence on future character. This is true in very early childhood; and it is peculiarly true at the period when youth is just ripening into manhood. Employ what teachers we may, the influences at home will have the mightiest influences in education. School masters may cultivate the intellect; but the things said and done at home are busy agents in forming the affections; and the latter have infinitely more important consequences than the former.
A knowledge of domestic duties is beyond all price to a woman. Every one ought to know how to sew, and knit, and mend, and cook, and superintend a household. In every situation of life, high or low, this sort of knowledge is a great advantage. There is no necessity that the gaining of such information should interfere with intellectual acquirement, or even with elegant accomplishments. A well regulated mind can find time to attend to all. When a girl is nine or ten years old, she should be accustomed to take some regular share in household duties, and to feel responsible for the manner in which it is done,—such as doing her own mending and making, washing the cups and putting them in place, cleaning the silver, dusting the parlor, &c. This should not be done occasionally, and neglected whenever she finds it convenient; she should consider it her department. When they are older than twelve, girls should begin to take turns in superintending the household, keeping an account of weekly expenses, cooking puddings, pies, cake, &c. To learn anything effectually, they should actually do these things themselves,—not stand by, and see others do them. It is a great mistake in mothers to make such slaves of themselves, rather than divide their cares with daughters. A variety of employment, and a feeling of trust and responsibility, add very much to the real happiness of young people. All who have observed human nature closely will agree that a vast deal depends upon how people deport themselves the first year after their marriage. If any little dissensions arise during that period,—if fretfulness and repining be indulged on one side, indifference and dislike on the other will surely follow,—and when this once takes place, farewell to all hopes of perfect domestic love. People may indeed agree to live peaceably and respectably together,—but the charm is broken—the best and dearest gift God gives to mortals is lost. Nothing can ever supply the place of that spontaneous tenderness, that boundless sympathy of soul, which has been so thoughtlessly destroyed. ‘Beware of the first quarrel,’ is the best advice that was ever given to married people. Now I would ask any reflecting mother, whether a girl brought up in ignorance of household duties, is not very likely to fret, when she is first obliged to attend to them? Will not her want of practice decidedly interfere with the domestic comfort of her family, and will it not likewise be a very serious trial to her own temper? I have known many instances where young married women have been perplexed, discouraged, and miserable, under a sense of domestic cares, which, being so entirely new to them, seemed absolutely insupportable. The spirit of complaint to which this naturally gives rise is not very complimentary to the husband; and it is not wonderful if he becomes dissatisfied with a wife, whom he cannot render happy.
Young girls learn many mischievous lessons from their companions at school. Among a mass of young ladies collected from all sorts of families, there will of course be much vanity, frivolity, and deceit, and some indecency. The utmost watchfulness of a teacher cannot prevent some bad influences. For this reason, I should myself decidedly prefer instructing a daughter in my own house; but I am aware that in most families this course would be expensive and inconvenient. However, I would never trust a young girl at a boarding school without being sure that her room-mate was discreet, well-principled, and candid. I should rather have a daughter’s mind a little less improved, than to have her heart exposed to corrupt influences; for this reason, I should prefer a respectable school in the country to a fashionable one in the city. For the same reason, I should greatly dread a young lady’s making long visits from home, unless I had perfect confidence in every member of the family she visited, and in every person to whom they would be likely to introduce her. There is no calculating the mischief that is done by the chance acquaintances picked up in this way. If there are sons in the families visited, the danger is still greater. I do not, of course, allude to any immorality of conduct; I should hope girls even tolerably educated would never be guilty of anything like immodesty. But young ladies, ignorant of the world and its vices, often do imprudent things without knowing them to be imprudent. If they have strong and enthusiastic affections, even their innocent frankness will in all probability be misconstrued by those who are not themselves pure and open-hearted. At all events, the frequent intercourse likely to exist between a visitor and the brothers of her friend is extremely apt to fill her head with a diseased anxiety for the admiration of the other sex, and with silly, romantic ideas about love—ideas which have no foundation in reason, nature, or common sense. Many unhappy matches have been the result of placing young people under the influence of such sentimental excitement, before they were old enough to know their own minds. Such unions are often dignified with the name of love-matches; but love has nothing to do with the business—fancy, vanity, or passion is the agent; and vanity is by far the most busy of the three. To call such thoughtless connexions love-matches is a libel upon the deepest, holiest, and most thoughtful of all the passions.
In this country, girls are often left to themselves at the very period when, above all others, they need a mother’s care. In France, mothers always visit with their daughters; and if restraint upon unmarried people is carried to excess there, we certainly err on the opposite extreme. We allow too much freedom, and we allow it too soon. I believe it is much better for a very young lady never to go about alone, or visit for any length of time from home, without her mother.
Youth must have friends, and those friends, being loved ardently, will have prodigious influence. The choice requires extreme caution. The whole of human destiny is often materially affected by those with whom we are intimate at fourteen or fifteen years of age. The safest method is not to put children in the way of those whom you dare not trust. Do not expressly forbid an acquaintance, (unless great faults of character demand such restrictions,) but endeavor by every possible means to withdraw your child from society you deem improper; occupy her with other things, and interest her in other persons. If an intimacy does spring up, notwithstanding your precautions, talk openly and reasonably about it; and let your daughter understand that you decidedly object to something in the young lady’s principles, manners, or habits. Wealth and station should never be spoken of as either for or against forming a friendship; the generous mind of youth never thinks of these artificial distinctions, and we certainly do wrong to teach them. Your chief safety lies in the manner in which you have educated your daughter. If her mind, heart, and conscience have all been cultivated, she will not love to associate with the ignorant, the vulgar, and the vicious; she will naturally seek the well-informed, the well-principled, and the truly refined, because she will have most sympathy with them.
A mother has an undoubted right to inspect her children’s letters, as well as the books they read; and if a young lady feels this to be any hardship, there is certainly something wrong, in one or other of the parties. Where young people are habitually discreet, it is not well to exercise this right very often; but children should always feel perfectly willing that letters may be opened, or not, at a parent’s option. But parents, on their part, must consider that this entire confidence cannot naturally and reasonably be expected to exist, unless they evince perfect good-nature, and a lively sympathy with youthful feeling. Perfect confidence between parent and child is a seven-fold shield against temptation.
There is one subject, on which I am very anxious to say a great deal; but on which, for obvious reasons, I can say very little. Judging by my own observation, I believe it to be the greatest evil now existing in education. I mean the want of confidence between mothers and daughters on delicate subjects. Children, from books, and from their own observation, soon have their curiosity excited on such subjects; this is perfectly natural and innocent, and if frankly met by a mother, it would never do harm. But on these occasions it is customary either to put young people off with lies, or still further to excite their curiosity by mystery and embarrassment. Information being refused them at the only proper source, they immediately have recourse to domestics, or immodest school-companions; and very often their young minds are polluted with filthy anecdotes of vice and vulgarity. This ought not to be. Mothers are the only proper persons to convey such knowledge to a child’s mind. They can do it without throwing the slightest stain upon youthful purity; and it is an imperious duty that they should do it. A girl who receives her first ideas on these subjects from the shameless stories and indecent jokes of vulgar associates, has in fact prostituted her mind by familiarity with vice. A diseased curiosity is excited, and undue importance given to subjects, which those she has been taught to respect think it necessary to envelope in so much mystery; she learns to think a great deal about them, and to ask a great many questions. This does not spring from any natural impurity; the same restless curiosity would be excited by any subject treated in the same manner. On the contrary, a well-educated girl of twelve years old, would be perfectly satisfied with a frank, rational explanation from a mother. It would set her mind at rest upon the subject; and instinctive modesty would prevent her recurring to it unnecessarily, or making it a theme of conversation with others. Mothers are strangely averse to encouraging this sort of confidence. I know not why it is, but they are usually the very last persons in the world to whom daughters think of applying in these cases. Many a young lady has fallen a victim to consumption from a mother’s bashfulness in imparting necessary precautions; and many, oh, many more, have had their minds corrupted beyond all cure.
I would not by any means be understood to approve of frequent conversations of this kind between parent and child—and least of all, anything like jesting, or double meanings. I never saw but two women, who indulged in such kind of mirth before their daughters; and I never think of them but with unmingled disgust. I do believe that after one modest and rational explanation, the natural purity and timidity of youth would check a disposition to talk much about it.
It is usually thought necessary, even by the very conscientious, to tell falsehoods about such subjects; but I believe it cannot do good, and may do harm. I would say to a young child, ‘I cannot tell you now, because you are not old enough to understand it. When you are old enough, I will talk with you; but you must remember not to ask anybody but me. You know I always have a reason for what I say to you; and I tell you it would be very improper to talk with other people about it. I promise you that I will explain it all to you, as soon as you are old enough to understand it.’
This promise ought to be faithfully kept; and if young people meet with anything in books that requires explanation, they should be taught to apply to their mother, and to no one else. Such a course would, I am very sure, prevent a great deal of impurity and imprudence.
It is a bad plan for young girls to sleep with nursery maids, unless you have the utmost confidence in the good principles and modesty of your domestics. There is a strong love among vulgar people of telling secrets, and talking on forbidden subjects. From a large proportion of domestics this danger is so great, that I apprehend a prudent mother will very rarely, under any circumstances, place her daughter in the same sleeping apartment with a domestic, until her character is so much formed, that her own dignity will lead her to reject all improper conversation. A well-principled, amiable elder sister is a great safeguard to a girl’s purity of thought and propriety of behavior. It is extremely important that warm-hearted, imprudent youth, should have a safe and interesting companion. A judicious mother can do a vast deal toward supplying this want; but those who have such a shield as a good sister are doubly blessed.
In the chapter on politeness I have mentioned how much little courtesies and kind attentions tend to strengthen the bonds of family love; and I firmly believe that these things, small as they may appear singly and separately, are of very great importance. Everything which ties the heart to home, has a good influence. Brothers and sisters cannot be too much encouraged in perfect kindness and candor toward each other. Any slight rudeness, a want of consideration for each other’s feelings, or of attention to each other’s comfort, should be treated with quite as much importance as similar offences against strangers. The habit of putting on politeness to go abroad, and of throwing it off at home, does more moral mischief than we are apt to imagine. I know families, conscientious in all great things, who yet think it no harm to peep into each other’s letters, or use each other’s property without permission; yet I look upon these things as absolutely unprincipled; they are positive infringements of the golden rule.
If one member of a family have any peculiarity, or personal defect, he should be treated with unusual delicacy and affection. The best way to cure any defect is to treat persons in such a mariner, that they themselves forget it. Perpetual consciousness of any disagreeable peculiarity increases the evil prodigiously. This is particularly true of physical imperfections; stuttering and lisping, for instance, are made ten times worse by being laughed at, or observed. It is the fear of exciting remark that makes people stutter so much worse before strangers than in the presence of their friends.
Parents are too apt to show a preference for the smartest or prettiest of the family. This is exactly the reverse of right. Those who are the least attractive abroad should be the most fostered at home; otherwise they may become chilled and discouraged; and the talents and good qualities they have, may die away in the secrecy of their own bosoms, for want of something to call them into exercise.
The business of parents is to develope each individual character so as to produce the greatest amount of usefulness and happiness. It is very selfish to bestow the most attention upon those who are the most pleasing, or most likely to do credit to a parent in the eyes of the world. Those who are painfully diffident of themselves should be treated with distinguished regard; they should be consulted on interesting subjects, and when their opinions are injudicious, they should be met by open and manly arguments, and never treated with any degree of contempt or indifference.
To have the various members of a family feel a common interest, as if they were all portions of the same body, is extremely desirable. It is a beautiful sight to see sisters willing to devote their talents and industry to the education of brothers, or a brother willing to deny himself selfish gratifications for a sister’s improvement, or a parent’s comfort. Little respectful attentions to a parent tend very much to produce this delightful domestic sympathy. Nothing is more graceful than children employed in placing a father’s arm-chair and slippers, or busying themselves in making everything look cheerful against his return; and there is something more than mere looks concerned in these becoming attentions—these trifling things lay the foundation of strong and deeply virtuous feelings. The vices and temptations of the world have little danger for those who can recollect beloved parents and a happy home. The holy and purifying influence is carried through life, and descends to bless and encourage succeeding generations. For this reason, too much cannot be done to produce an earnest and confiding friendship between parents and children. Mothers should take every opportunity to excite love, gratitude and respect, toward a father. His virtues and his kindness should be a favorite theme, when talking with his children. The same rule that applies to a wife, in these respects, of course applies to a husband. It should be the business of each to strengthen the bonds of domestic union.
Every effort should be made to make home as pleasant as possible. The habit of taking turns to read interesting books aloud, while the others are at work, is an excellent plan. Music has likewise a cheerful influence, and greatly tends to produce refinement of taste. It has a very salutary effect for whole families to unite in singing before retiring to rest; or at any other time, when it is pleasant and convenient. On such occasions, I think there should be at least one simple tune in which the little children can join without injury to their young voices. I believe the power of learning to sing is much more general than has hitherto been believed; and the more subjects there are in which the different members of a family can sympathize, the greater will be their harmony and love.
It will probably be gathered from what I have said in the preceding pages, that I do not approve of young ladies’ visiting very young,—that is, being what is called brought out, or going into company. I think those parents whose situation does not make it necessary to have their daughters brought out at all, are peculiarly blest; and under all circumstances, I am sure it is best for a daughter never to visit without her mother, till she is past seventeen years of age. A round of gayety is alike fascinating and unprofitable; it wastes time, distracts attention, and makes every-day duties and pleasures appear dull and uninteresting. Late hours, excitement, and irregularity of food, make large demands upon health and strength, before the constitution is fully established; the mind and heart too, as well as the body, become old before their time; there is nothing new in store for the young imagination, and society loses its charm at the very age when it would naturally be most enjoyed. I do not believe it is ever well for girls to go into many large parties; the manners can be sufficiently formed by social intercourse with the polite and intelligent. I greatly approve of social visiting among children and young persons. It is alike beneficial to the heart and the manners. I only wish that mothers more generally made one of these little parties. In general, girls think they must have an apartment to themselves when they receive visiters, or they must run off into the garden, or upstairs, because a mother’s presence is an unpleasant restraint. This ought not to be. If married ladies will be familiar and cheerful, they can be extremely entertaining, as well as useful to the young. I wish this sort of companionship were more general—for I am certain it has a good influence. If a mother shows an obliging readiness to enter into the plans and amusements of her children, and their young guests, they will feel no painful restraint in her presence; while at the same time she removes from them all temptation to frivolous and improper conversation. I have known instances where a mother was the most animated and animating of all the little group. Would such instances were more frequent! It is impossible to calculate the benefits that result from having a happy home.
From the beginning to the end of this book, I have most earnestly represented the necessity of forming early habits of observation. It is a strong foundation, on which any kind of character may be built, as circumstances require. It makes good writers, good painters, good botanists, good mechanics, good cooks, good housewives, good farmers—good everything! It fits as for any situation in which Providence may place us, and enables us to make the most of whatever advantages may come in our way. It is a sort of vital principle, that gives life to everything.
Not fifty miles from Boston is a farmer, quite famous for the improvements he has made in the wild grape. He found a vine in the wood, which dozens of his neighbors passed every week, as well as he; but he observed that where the oxen fed upon the vine the grapes where largest and sweetest. He took the hint. The vine was transplanted, and closely pruned. This produced the same effect as browsing had done; the nourishment, that in a wild state supported a great weight of vines and tendrils, went entirely to the body of the grape. His neighbors would have known this as well as he, if they had thought about it; but they did not observe.
In ancient Greece the beneficial effect of closely trimming grape-vines was discovered by observing the extreme luxuriance of a vine, which an ass had frequently nibbled as he fed by the way-side. The man who availed himself of this hint, became celebrated throughout Greece, by means of the far-famed grapes of Nauplia; and, with less justice, statues were erected to the ass, and high honors paid to his memory. The grape had never been cultivated in this country, when, by a singular coincidence, an observing American farmer made the same discovery, and by the same means, that gave celebrity to the observing Grecian farmer, in very ancient times.
Even in infancy, the foundation of this important habit should be begun, by directing the attention to the size, shape, color, &c., of whatever objects are presented. In childhood it should be constantly kept alive, by never allowing anything to be read, or done, carelessly; and during the teens, when the mind is all alive and busy, very peculiar care should be taken to strengthen and confirm it. A young lady should never be satisfied with getting through with a thing some how or other; she should know how she has done it, why she has done it, and what is the best way of doing it. She should use her thoughts in all her employments. There is always a best way of doing everything; and however trifling the occupation, this way should be discovered; in making a shirt, for instance, she should be led to observe that it is much more convenient to put in the sleeves before the collar is set on. It is the want of these habits of observation, which makes some people so left-handed and awkward about everything they undertake.
There is another subject quite as important—I mean habits of reflection. Young people should be accustomed to look into their own hearts, to be very sure what motives they act from, and what feelings they indulge. Parents can assist them very much, by seizing favorable opportunities to talk with them about what they have done, and what were their motives of action. It is a good maxim ‘every morning to think what we have to do, and every evening to think what we have done.’ The close of the year is a peculiarly appropriate time for self-examination. Each member of the family should be encouraged at this interesting season, to think what improvements have been made, and what evils have been conquered during the year.
One subject of great importance had nearly escaped my recollection. I mean the early habit of writing letters neatly and correctly. There are a hundred cases where a young person’s success in life may be affected by the appearance of their epistles. A letter badly written, badly spelt, or badly punctuated, is a direct and abiding proof of a neglected education, or a disorderly mind. The receipt of such a document often makes an unfavorable impression with regard to an individual’s character, or capacity, which is never afterward entirely obliterated. For this reason, children should early be accustomed to give a natural and simple account, in writing, of what they have seen and done. The rules of punctuation, which are few and plain, should be particularly attended to; and any awkwardness or inelegance in the sentences should be kindly pointed out, but never ridiculed. If parents, from want of early education, feel unable to do this, they will, in all probability, know of some near relation, or intimate friend, who will occasionally attend to it. The great thing is to make children desirous of improvement; and this can be done by an uneducated parent, as well as by a learned one. When a strong wish to excel in any particular thing is once excited, there is no danger but it will find means to satisfy itself; and this is one reason why we should be more careful what we teach children to love, than what we teach them to remember.
CHAPTER XI.
VIEWS OF MATRIMONY.
There is no subject connected with education which has so important a bearing on human happiness as the views young people are taught to entertain with regard to matrimonial connexions. The dreams of silly romance, half vanity, and half passion, on the one hand, and selfish calculation on the other, leave but precious little of just thinking and right feeling on the subject. The greatest and most prevailing error in education consists in making lovers a subject of such engrossing and disproportionate interest in the minds of young girls. As soon as they can walk alone, they are called ‘little sweet-heart,’ and ‘little wife;’ as they grow older, the boyish liking of a neighbor, or school-mate, becomes a favorite jest; they often hear it said how lucky such and such people are, because they ‘married off’ all their family so young; and when a pretty, attractive girl is mentioned, they are in the habit of hearing it observed, ‘She will be married young. She is too handsome and too interesting to live single long.’
I have frequently said that such sort of accidental remarks do in fact educate children, more than direct maxims; and this applies with peculiar force to the subject of matrimony. Such observations as I have quoted, give young girls the idea that there is something degrading in not being married young; or, at least, in not having had offers of marriage. This induces a kind of silly pride and restless vanity, which too often ends in ill-assorted connexions. I had a sweet young friend, with a most warm and generous heart, but a giddy, romantic brain. Her mother was weak-minded and indulgent, and had herself been taught, in early life, to consider it the chief end and aim of existence to get married. She often reminded her daughters, that she was but sixteen when she was married, and had then refused two or three lovers. Of course, when my charming, sentimental little friend was sixteen, she began to feel uneasy under a sense of disgrace; her pride was concerned in having a beau as early as her mother had one; and this feeling was a good deal strengthened by the engagement of two or three young companions. It unluckily happened that a dashing, worthless young man was introduced to her about this time. A flirtation began, which soon ended in an offer of his hand. He said he was in good business, and she saw that he wore a handsome coat, and drove a superb horse; and, more than all, she thought what a triumph it would be to be engaged at sixteen. She married him. It was soon discovered that he was careless, dissipated, and very poor. In no respect whatever had he sympathy with my sensitive, refined, but ill-educated friend. She discovered this too late. She would have discovered it at first, had her mind been quiet on the subject of matrimony. A wretched life might have been spared her, if her mother had left her heart to develope naturally, under the influences of true affection, as the lily opens its petals to the sunshine. Her marriage was called a love-match; and as such was held up by ambitious parents as a salutary warning. But there never was a greater misnomer. She had not a particle of love for the man. She married him because he happened to be the first that offered, and because she felt ashamed not to be engaged as soon as her companions.
But heedless vanity and silly romance, though a prolific source of unhappy marriages, are not so disastrous in their effects as worldly ambition, and selfish calculation. I never knew a marriage expressly for money, that did not end unhappily. Yet managing mothers, and heartless daughters, are continually playing the same unlucky game. I look upon it as something more than bad policy for people to marry those to whom they are, at best, perfectly indifferent, merely for the sake of wealth; in my view it is absolutely unprincipled. Happiness cannot result from such connexions, because it ought not. A mother who can deliberately advise a daughter thus to throw away all chance of domestic bliss, would, were it not for the fear of public opinion, be willing to sell her to the Grand Sultan, to grace his seraglio. Disguise the matter as we may, with the softening epithets of ‘prudent match,’ ‘a good establishment,’ &c., it is, in honest truth, a matter of bargain and sale.
I believe men more frequently marry for love, than women; because they have a freer choice. I am afraid to conjecture how large a proportion of women marry because they think they shall not have a better chance, and dread being dependent. Such marriages, no doubt, sometimes prove tolerably comfortable; but great numbers would have been far happier single. If I may judge by my own observation of such matches, marrying for a home is a most tiresome way of getting a living.
One of the worst effects resulting from managing about these things, is the disappointment and fancied disgrace attendant upon a failure; and with the most artful manœuvring, failures in such schemes are very frequent. Human policy sketches beautiful patterns, but she is a bad weaver; she always entangles her own web. I am acquainted with two or three managing mothers, who have pretty children; and in the whole circle of my acquaintance, I know of none so unfortunate in disposing of their daughters. The young ladies would have married very well, if they had not been taught to act a part; now, they will either live single, or form ill-assorted, unhappy connexions. If they live single, they will probably be ill-natured and envious through life; because they have been taught to attach so much importance to the mere circumstance of getting married, without any reference to genuine affection. A woman of well-regulated feelings and an active mind, may be very happy in single life,—far happier than she could be made by a marriage of expediency. The reason old maids are proverbially more discontented than old bachelors, is, that they have generally so much less to occupy their thoughts. For this reason, it is peculiarly important, that a woman’s education should furnish her with abundant resources for employment and amusement. I do not say that an unmarried woman can be as happy as one who forms, with proper views and feelings, a union, which is unquestionably the most blessed of all human relations; but I am very certain that one properly educated need not be unhappy in single life.
The great difficulty at the present day is, that matrimony is made a subject of pride, vanity, or expediency; whereas it ought to be a matter of free choice and honest preference. A woman educated with proper views on the subject could not be excessively troubled at not being married, when in fact she had never seen a person for whom she entertained particular affection; but one taught to regard it as a matter of pride, is inevitably wretched, discontented, and envious, under the prospect of being an old maid, though she regards no human being with anything like love.
Some mothers are always talking about the cares, and duties, and sacrifices incident to married life; they are always urging their daughters to ‘enjoy themselves while they are single’—‘to be happy while they have a chance,’—but at the same time that they give such a gloomy picture of domestic life, (making it a frightful bugbear to the young imagination,) they urge upon them the necessity of getting married for respectability’s sake. They must be ‘well settled,’ as the phrase is. The victim must be sacrificed, because the world’s opinion demands it.
I once heard a girl, accustomed to such remarks, say, with apparent sincerity, ‘I should like of all things to be married, if I could be sure my husband would die in a fortnight; then I should avoid the disgrace of being an old maid, and get rid of the restraint and trouble of married life.’ Strange and unnatural as such a sentiment may appear, it was just what might have been expected from one accustomed to such selfish views of a relation so holy and blessed in its nature. It is all-important that charming pictures of domestic life should be presented to the young. It should be described as,—what it really is,—the home of woman’s affections, and her pleasantest sphere of duty. Your daughter should never hear her own marriage speculated or jested upon; but the subject in general should be associated in her mind with everything pure, bright, and cheerful.
I shall be asked if I do not think it extremely desirable that daughters should marry well; and whether the secluded, domestic education I have recommended is not very unfavorable to the completion of such wishes,—for how can they be admired, when they are not seen? It certainly is very desirable that daughters should marry well, because it wonderfully increases their chance of happiness. The unchangeable laws of God have made reciprocated affection necessary to the human heart; and marriage formed with proper views is a powerful means of improving our better nature. But I would not say, or do anything, to promote a union of this sort. I would have no scheming, no managing, no hinting. I would never talk with girls about the beaux, or suffer them to associate with those who did. I would leave everything to nature and Divine Providence—with a full belief that such reliance would do more and better for me than I could effect by my own plans. I do not think a secluded, domestic education is unfavorable to chances of happy matrimonial connexions. A girl with a good heart, a full mind, and modest, refined manners, cannot fail to be attractive. Make her a delightful companion to her own family; teach her to be happy at home; and trust Divine Providence to find her a suitable partner. If she has been taught to think the regulation of her own heart and mind of greater importance than anything else, she cannot be unhappy whatever may be her lot in life; and her chance for a happy marriage will be abundantly greater than it could be made by the most adroit management.
It is evident that the greatest safeguard against improper attachments consists in the character you have given your daughter, by the manner of educating her. A refined young lady will not naturally be in love with vulgarity; nor will a pure mind have any sympathy with the vicious and unprincipled. But as vice often wears the garb of virtue, and as youth is, from its very innocence, unsuspecting, it is incumbent upon parents to be extremely careful with what sort of young men they allow their daughters to associate. Acquaintance with any particular person should not be expressly forbidden, because such restraint is likely to excite the very interest you wish to avoid; but, without saying anything on the subject, do not encourage your daughter in going to places where she will meet a fascinating young man, to whom you have decided objections; and if you discover the smallest symptoms of mutual interest between the parties, remove her from home, if possible, to some place where her mind will soon become interested in new occupations. A prudent parent will always remember that it is extremely natural for young people to get deeply interested in those they see frequently; and that it is far easier, and better, to prevent an attachment, than it is to conquer it after it is formed. I would never, even by the most trifling expression, lead my daughter to think of her acquaintances as future lovers; but I should myself recollect the possibility of such a circumstance, and would not therefore encourage an acquaintance with any man, whom I should be very unwilling to see her husband. ‘An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.’
In affairs of this kind strong opposition is very impolitic. It rarely effects its purpose; and if it does, it is through much misery and trouble. I doubt whether parents have a right to forbid the marriage of their children, after they are old enough to think and decide for themselves; but while they are quite young, I do think they have an undoubted right to prevent marriage, until the laws of the land render them free from parental authority. But where this is done, it should be with great mildness and discretion: it should be resorted to only from a desire to leave young people a perfect freedom of choice, at an age when they are more capable of feeling deeply and judging wisely.
Where there is any immorality of character, it becomes an imperative duty for parents to forbid an engagement while the parties are young. If it is persisted in, after they are old enough to be as discreet as they ever will be, there is no help for it; but I do not believe one, whose heart and mind had been properly educated, would ever persist in such a course.
The three great questions to be asked in deciding whether a union is suitable and desirable, is, 1st, Has the person good principles? 2d, Has he, or she, a good disposition? 3d, Is there a strong, decided, deeply-founded preference? Connexions which are likely to lead a woman into a sphere of life to which she has been unaccustomed, to introduce her to new and arduous duties,—and to form a violent contrast to her previous mode of life,—should not be entered into, except at mature age, and with great certainty that affection is strong enough to endure such trials. But where there is deep, well founded love, and an humble reliance on Divine Providence, all things will work right in the end.