The Young Maiden

by A. B. Muzzey

There are not a few who cherish Romantic ideas concerning the affections. They regard “marriage,” in the words of another, “as an occasion to be preceded by fears, and hopes, and love’s stratagems, by love-letters, passionate vows, sudden crosses, and intense joys.” It is to transform the individual subject to its power, to fill her with sensations, which she cannot now even imagine. With this transcendental view of that passion, a young woman is likely to conclude that, for herself, she shall never see the person whom she can love. No angelic being, in human form, will ever cross her path, and therefore she shall always remain single. Anon she dreams of going into a nunnery,—“to pine away and die.”

Now we cannot too early set about correcting these false imaginings and vain expectations. Poets may sing of love as convulsing the frame, and rending the heart, and transmuting a human sentiment into divine extasies. But in the sober experience of life, such rapturous emotions are exceedingly rare. Indeed all the deep feelings of our nature are tranquil. It is the shallow stream only, which dashes, and sparkles, and deafens us by its noise. If you ever know the power of genuine love, you will find it as calm as it is intense. It will be in harmony with your other pure sentiments. Never will it subjugate, and tyrannize over, and do violence to, your whole nature.

We have seen those,—and we suspect they belong to a numerous class,—who conceive that true love is attended by a Fatalism. It is first assumed, that every one must love some individual of the opposite sex. A necessity is laid on us all, it is thought, to bestow the affections in marriage. The question may not so much as be raised, “Is it certain that I shall ever meet with one to whom I can give my heart?” No, woman was made to love and to be married, that is her unalterable destiny. All that is to occupy her thoughts in this respect, is, “Who shall the individual be, on whom I must place my affections?”

This opinion is surely erroneous. For Providence has so arranged the circumstances of human life and of society, that some females are absolutely precluded from forming the matrimonial connection. Ill-health,—to name no other cause,—sometimes positively debars one from this relation. There are abundant reasons, indeed, for which every one, ordinarily situated, should contemplate marriage. It is the design of our physical and moral constitution, and the spring of unsullied enjoyments, social and spiritual; and no one should voluntarily exclude herself from this bond, save for imperious considerations. Yet let no young woman predetermine that hers may not be an exception to the general law. The inquiry should at least arise in her mind, “May I not be of those, whose usefulness and happiness do not absolutely require their entering the marriage state?”

But our friend thinks there is a fatalism not only in regard to her marriage, but in reference to the particular companion, with whom she must be associated for life. “Matches are made,” say some, “in Heaven.” Prudence has no concern with this matter. A young woman fixes her affections on some individual, and believes that it is decreed she should love and should marry him. If circumstances appear unpropitious to their intimacy, she is perfectly wretched. And this, not simply because she loves him so ardently, but because she believes a decree of Heaven will be violated, if their union fail of consummation. “Our presentiments,” it is said “often work their own fulfilment.” I cannot doubt, that, in the formation of the marriage bond, at least, they often do, and that with the saddest results.

What an idea is this, if one will steadily contemplate it. That the heart is not subject, in the slightest degree, to our dominion? That we must love, and love, too, one whom perhaps accident alone threw in our way! Are you, indeed, obliged by a physical or moral necessity, to marry this person, because he is an inmate of your father’s household, or because you were both born in the same village, or because he has something in his countenance that tells you,—before a word has been exchanged between you,—that he must be your lover, and your husband? The picture needs but be presented one moment before a calm, dispassionate eye, to force on us the conviction that, if in any human transaction we are free to accept, and free to reject the offers of another, we are clearly so in this.

There are those who, passing to the opposite extreme, entertain the opinion that love is a sentiment, not only subject to human control, but capable of being entirely suppressed. They deem it altogether optional with themselves, whether they shall know anything of the affection between the sexes, or not.

Did this notion extend only to the relative power of the sexes, or the direction we may give to our hearts, it would be less objectionable. For doubtless love, though more essential to woman than to man, can be more easily controlled by her than by him. A person of a strong will may bring herself, for prudential considerations, to prefer in marriage one who will be “a good match” with her, as the phrase is, to another whom she sincerely loves. And she may succeed in subduing, to no ordinary degree, her affection for the rejected one. But to eradicate from the heart the powerful principle of love is not given, I believe, to woman. She may substitute another object for that which ought to have engaged this class of her affections. A mother, or sister, or a friend, may be installed in that place. Nay, I have known a mere animal to be caressed and apparently loved, as it could not have been, had the affections been properly bestowed on a human being. We can regulate and direct, but we cannot destroy, in the heart, the sentiment of love.

Some, again, associate with the thought of love the idea of our Lower Propensities. They regard it as an animal passion, and as debasing to the character. With false notions of delicacy, they determine to shun its snares, and hence strive to banish the impure thing from their minds, and to steel themselves against its access.

How unworthy of our nature, and of the Being who formed us, is this view. To those who entertain it, we must say, “what God hath cleansed, that call not thou common, or unclean.” Far, indeed, are they, to whom we allude, from the elevated and true idea of that sacred tie, which joins the pure in heart. A better knowledge of their race would acquaint them with multitudes, who have proved marriage to be “honorable,” and to whom love has been the chief refiner of their souls. That it may be perverted, we cannot, of course, deny. But that its legitimate tendency, is any other than to exalt, ennoble, and sanctify the spirit, we do not believe. So thorough is our persuasion of this, that we would commend the marriage relation to a seeker of moral excellence. We would say, that, in the hallowed sympathies of love are incitements to purity and piety. To her who earnestly desires to become spiritual, we would present the association in marriage with one spiritually minded, as, above all adventitious means, friendly to her holy purpose.