Decidedly. Whatever you do, do not make a fine lady of her, or she will become puny and delicate, listless and miserable. A girl, let her station be what it might, ought, as soon as she be old enough, to make her own bed. There is no exercise to expand the figure and to beautify the shape better than bed-making. Let her make tidy her own room. Let her use her hands and her arms. Let her, to a great extent, be self-reliant, and let her wait upon herself. There is nothing vulgar in her being useful. Let me ask, Of what use are many girls of the present day? They are utterly useless. Are they happy? No, for the want of employment they are miserable—I mean, bodily employment, household work. Many girls, nowadays, unfortunately, are made to look upon a pretty face, dress, and accomplishments as the only things needed! And, when they do become women and wives—if ever they do become women and wives—what miserable, lackadaisical wives, and what senseless, useless mothers they make!
CHOICE OF PROFESSION OR TRADE.
346. What profession or trade would you recommend a boy of a delicate or of a consumptive habit to follow?
If a youth be delicate, it is a common practice among parents either to put him to some light in-door trade, or, if they can afford it, to one of the learned professions. Such a practice is absurd, and fraught with danger The close confinement of an in-door trade is highly prejudicial to health. The hard reading requisite to fit a man to fill, for instance, the sacred office, only increases delicacy of constitution. The stooping at a desk, in an attorney’s office, is most trying to the chest. The harass, the anxiety, the disturbed nights, the interrupted meals, and the intense study necessary to fit a man for the medical profession, is still more dangerous to health than either law, divinity, or any in-door trade. “Sir Walter Scott says of the country surgeon, that he is worse fed and harder wrought than any one else in the parish, except it be his horse.”[[290]]
A modern writer, speaking of the life of a medical man, observes: “There is no career which so rapidly wears away the powers of life, because there is no other which requires a greater activity of mind and body. He has to bear the changes of weather, continued fatigue, irregularity in his meals, and broken rest; to live in the midst of miasma and contagion. If in the country, he has to traverse considerable distances on horseback, exposed to wind and storm—to brave all dangers to go to the relief of suffering humanity. A fearful truth for medical men has been established by the table of mortality by Dr. Casper, published in the British Review. Of 1000 members of the medical profession, 600 died before their sixty-second year; while of persons leading a quiet life—such as agriculturists or theologians—the mortality is only 347. If we take 100 individuals of each of these classes, 43 theologians, 40 agriculturists, 35 clerks, 32 soldiers, will reach their seventieth year: of 100 professors of the healing art, 24 only will reach that age. They are the sign-posts to health; they can show the road to old age, but rarely tread it themselves.”
If a boy, therefore, be of a delicate or of a consumptive habit, an out-door calling should be advised, such as that of a farmer, of a tanner, or a land-surveyor; but, if he be of an inferior station of society, the trade of a butcher may be recommended. Tanners and butchers are seldom known to die of consumption.
I cannot refrain from reprobating the too common practice among parents of bringing up their boys to the professions. The anxieties and the heartaches which they undergo if they do not succeed (and how can many of them succeed when there is such a superabundance of candidates?) materially injure their health. “I very much wonder,” says Addison, “at the humor of parents, who will not rather choose to place their sons in a way of life where an honest industry cannot but thrive, than in stations where the greatest probity, learning, and good sense may miscarry. How many men are country curates, that might have made themselves aldermen of London by a right improvement of a smaller sum of money than what is usually laid out upon a learned education? A sober, frugal person, of slender parts and a slow apprehension, might have thrived in trade, though he starves upon physic; as a man would be well enough pleased to buy silks of one whom he could not venture to feel his pulse. Vagellius is careful, studious, and obliging, but withal a little thick-skulled; he has not a single client, but might have had abundance of customers. The misfortune is, that parents take a liking to a particular profession, and therefore desire their sons may be of it; whereas, in so great an affair of life, they should consider the genius and abilities of their children more than their own inclinations. It is the great advantage of a trading nation, that there are very few in it so dull and heavy who may not be placed in stations of life which may give them an opportunity of making their fortunes. A well-regulated commerce is not, like law, physic, or divinity, to be overstocked with hands; but, on the contrary, flourishes by multitudes, and gives employment to all its professors. Fleets of merchantmen are so many squadrons of floating shops, that vend our wares and manufactures in all the markets of the world, and find out chapmen under both the tropics.”
347. Then, do you recommend a delicate youth to be brought up either to a profession or to a trade?
Decidedly. There is nothing so injurious for a delicate boy, or for any one else, as idleness. Work, in moderation, enlivens the spirits, braces the nerves, and gives tone to the muscles, and thus strengthens the constitution. Of all miserable people, the idle boy or the idle man is the most miserable! If you are poor, of course you will bring him up to some calling; but if you are rich, and your boy is delicate (if he be not actually in a consumption), you will, if you are wise, still bring him up to some trade or profession. You will, otherwise, be making a rod for your own as well as for your son’s back. Oh, what a blessed thing is work!