Now is it not practicable for every woman, who attempts to promote the proper education of American children, to use whatever influence she may have with parents, or teachers to secure such a course of moral training in the schools in her own vicinity, as is here indicated? Let every woman try what she can do to promote this important object.
American woman, whose eye may be resting on this page, are you willing to commence an effort to aid in saving your country from the perils of ignorance? Are you not spending more time in adorning your person, your children, or your residence, or in social enjoyments, or in providing for the gratification of the palate, than you have yet given to this cause? Can you continue this unchristian, unpatriotic apportionment of time, without an upbraiding conscience? Do you say that already you have more to do than you can properly perform? But, in the list of your pursuits, are there not some that are of far inferior consequence to this, which it would do no harm to curtail, and thus gain time for this? Do you not spend time and money for articles of dress, or ornaments, or in social intercourse, or for needless luxuries, that you might, without any evil, give up to this object?
Do you say that you can do but little, and relieve yourself from obligation because it is so little? Suppose each drop of rain should urge this plea, and thus delay to refresh the fields? Is not every great and good work accomplished by a union of many little influences, and as much so in the moral as in the natural world?
Are you dwelling in those parts of our land where most is done for education, and comforting yourself that at least you and yours shall escape in safety? But how can you tell that in five or ten years either you, or those you love best, will not be the other side of the Alleghany, and in the most destitute portion of the nation? The changes of fortune, the pursuit of wealth, the mutations of matrimonial connexions, utterly forbid any reliance on permanency of residence.
And how can one portion of this nation suffer and the other escape? Is not the vast River Valley, whatever may be the character of its millions, to hold the controlling power of our nation? If any portion of the fair West be tortured with civil commotion and lawless rage, will not every groan re-echo from the maternal heart of New-England and New-York, whose sons and daughters are dwelling on every prairie and in every valley of our land?
Mother, whose hands are so busy in ornamenting your darling child; Sister, whose fingers fly so swiftly over the canvass or lace; Daughter, so earnestly engaged in preparing your elegant habiliments, look back to that beautiful daughter of emperors, that sister of kings, that mother of princes, brought to her palace-home amid a nation’s transports, the welcome bride of the nation’s heir.
Again, on the birth of her first-born, hear the triumphant pæan re-echoed across the ocean, sung by the very children in our streets, and in the memory of many now on the stage:
“A Dauphin’s born! let cannon loud
With echoes rend the sky;