← catalogue

The Young Woman's Guide

by William A. Alcott · English · Gutenberg #9054 · 416,736 chars · public domain (US)

The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Young Woman's Guide
    
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.

Title: The Young Woman's Guide

Author: William A. Alcott


        
Release date: October 1, 2005 [eBook #9054]
                Most recently updated: October 17, 2012

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/9054

Credits: Produced by Stan Goodman, Michelle Shephard, and Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG WOMAN'S GUIDE ***




Produced by Stan Goodman, Michelle Shephard, and Project
Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders










THE YOUNG WOMAN'S GUIDE

by

William A. Alcott




[Illustration: Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, Ease and
alternate labour, useful life, Progressive virtue, and approving
Heaven!  Thomson]

PREFACE.


This work was begun, soon after the appearance of the Young Man's
Guide--and was partially announced to the public. For reasons, however,
which I have not room to give in this place, it was thought proper to
defer its publication till the appearance of several other volumes in
the same spirit, involving more particularly the relative duties.

I wish to have it distinctly understood, that I do not propose to give
a complete manual of the social and moral duties of young women. Every
one has his own way of looking at things, and I have mine. Some of the
duties of young women have appeared to me to receive from other writers
less attention than their comparative importance demands; and
others--especially those which are connected with the great subject of
"temperance in all things"--I have believed to be treated, in several
respects, erroneously.

Permit me, however, to say, that while I have not intended to follow
the path, or repeat the ideas of any other writer, I have not attempted
to avoid either the one or the other. If I have presented here and
there a thought which had already come before the public from my own
pen, I can only say that I did not intend it, although I did not take
special pains to avoid it. The sum is this. I have presented my
thoughts, without so much reference to what has already been said by
myself or others, as to what I have supposed to be the necessities of
those for whom I write. I have gone straight forward, asking no
questions; and I trust I shall be dealt with in a manner equally direct.




CONTENTS.


CHAPTER I. EXPLANATION OF TERMS.

Defining terms. The word excellence here used as nearly synonymous with
holiness. What is meant by calling the work a Guide. The term
Woman--why preferable, as a general term, to Lady. The class to whom
this work is best adapted.

CHAPTER II. FEMALE RESPONSIBILITIES.

Comparison of the responsibilities of young men and young women. Saying
of Dr. Rush. Its application to young women. Definition of the term
education. Bad and good education. Opinions of Solomon. Influence of a
young woman in a family--in a school. Anecdotes of female influence.
West, Alexander, Cæsar, Franklin. Story of a domestic in Boston. The
good she is doing. Special influence of young women in families--and as
sisters. Female influence in the renovation of the world.

CHAPTER III. SELF-EDUCATION.

Views of Agesilaus, king of Sparta--of Solomon, king of Israel. Mistake
corrected. What the wisest and best parents cannot do. What, therefore,
remains to the daughter. Necessity of self-education. The work of self
education the work of life--a never-ending progress upward to the
throne of God.

CHAPTER IV. LOVE OF IMPROVEMENT.

Female capabilities. Doing every thing in the best possible manner.
Unending progress. Every person and every occupation susceptible of
improvement, indefinitely. Doing well what is before us. Anecdote
illustrative of this principle. Personal duties. Two great classes of
persons described. Hopes of reaching the ears of the selfish.

CHAPTER V. SELF-KNOWLEDGE.

Vast extent of the science of self-knowledge. Spurious self-knowledge.
Knowledge of our physical frame--its laws and relations. Examples of
the need of this knowledge. Instruments of obtaining it. The use of
lectures. Study of our peculiarities. Study of mental philosophy. The
Bible. How the Bible should be studied.

CHAPTER VI. CONSCIENTIOUSNESS.

Is there any conscientiousness in the world? How far conscientiousness
should extend. Tendency and power of habit. Evils of doing incessantly
what we know to be wrong. Why we do this. Errors of early education.
False standard of right and wrong. Bad method of family discipline.
Palsy of the moral sensibilities. Particular direction in regard to the
education of conscience. Results which may be expected.

CHAPTER VII. SELF-GOVERNMENT.

What self-government includes. Cheerfulness a duty. Discretion.
Modesty. Diffidence. Courage. Vigilance. Thoughts and feelings. The
affections. The temper. The appetites and passions.

CHAPTER VIII. SELF-COMMAND.

Presence of mind. Examples. Napoleon. Female example. Mrs. Merrill. Use
of the anecdote. Self-command to be cultivated. In what manner. Consult
the experience of others. Consult your own reason and good sense. Daily
practice in the art of self-command.

CHAPTER IX. DECISION OF CHARACTER.

Decision of character as important to young women as to others. Why it
is so. Illustration of the subject by a Scripture anecdote. Misery and
danger of indecision. How to reform. Perseverance. Errors of modern
education.

CHAPTER X. SELF-DEPENDENCE.

Fashionable education. Why there is so little self-dependence in the
world. Why orphans sometimes make out well in the world. Error
corrected. What young women once were. What they are now. The best
character formed under difficulties. Cause of the present helpless
condition of females. Three or four to get breakfast. Modes of breaking
up these habits. Anecdote of an independent young woman. Appeal to the
reader.

CHAPTER XI. REASONING AND ORIGINALITY.

Females not expected to be reasoners. Effects of modern education on
the reasoning powers. Education of former days, illustrated by an
anecdote of an octogenarian. Extracts from her correspondence.
Difficulty in getting the ears of mankind. The reasoning powers in man
susceptible of cultivation indefinitely. Reflections on the importance
of maternal effort and female education.

CHAPTER XII. INVENTION.

Why woman has invented so few things. Abundant room for the exercise of
her inventive powers. Hints. Particular need of a reform in cookery.
Appeal to young women on this subject.

CHAPTER XIII. OBSERVATION AND REFLECTION.

Advice of Dr. Dwight. Other counsels to the young. Some persons of both
sexes are always seeing, but never reflecting. An object deserving of
pity. Zimmerman's views. Reading to get rid of reflection. Worse things
still.

CHAPTER XIV. DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.

Universal prevalence of detraction and slander. Proofs. Shakspeare.
Burns the poet. Self-knowledge, how much to be desired. Reference to
the work of Mrs. Opie--to our own hearts--to the Bible.

CHAPTER XV. THE RIGHT USE OF TIME.

Great value of moments. An old maxim. Wasting shreds of time. Time more
valuable than money. What are the most useful charities. Doing good by
proxy. Value of time for reflection. Doing nothing. Rendering an
account of our time at the last tribunal.

CHAPTER XVI. LOVE OF DOMESTIC CONCERNS.

Reasons for loving domestic life. 1. Young women should have some
avocation. Labor regarded as drudgery. 2. Domestic employment healthy.
3. It is pleasant. 4. It affords leisure for intellectual improvement.
5. It is favorable to social improvement. 6. It is the employment
assigned them by Divine Providence, and is eminently conducive to moral
improvement.--The moral lessons of domestic life. A well ordered home a
miniature of heaven.

CHAPTER XVII. FRUGALITY AND ECONOMY.

Economy becoming old fashioned. The Creator's example. Frugality and
economy should be early inculcated. Spending two pence to save one, not
always wrong. Examples of disregarding economy. Wasting small things.
Good habits as well as bad ones, go by companies. This chapter
particularly necessary to the young. Frugality and economy of our
grandmothers.

CHAPTER XVIII. SYSTEM.

General neglect of system in families. Successful efforts of a few
schools. Why the effects they produce are not permanent. Importance of
right education. Here and there system maybe found. Blessedness of
having a mother who is systematic. Let no person ever despair of
reformation. How to begin the work.

CHAPTER XIX. PUNCTUALITY.

Evil of being one minute too late. Examples to illustrate the
importance of punctuality. Case of a mother at Lowell. Her adventure.
General habits which led to such a disaster. Condition of a family
trained to despise punctuality.

CHAPTER XX. EXERCISE.

The muscles, or moving power of the body. Their number and character.
Philosophy and necessity of exercise. Why young women should study
these. Various kinds of exercise. 1. Walking. 2. Gardening and
agriculture. 3. House-keeping. 4. Riding. 5. Local
exercises.--Difficulty of drawing the public attention to this subject.
The slavery of fashion. Consequences of the fashionable neglect of
exercise. A common but shocking sight.

CHAPTER XXI. REST AND SLEEP.

Why rest and sleep are neglected. Sleep a condition. We should sleep in
the night. Moral tendency of not doing so. Is there any moral character
in such things? Of rest without sleep. Good habits is regard to sleep.
Apartments for sleep. Air. Bed. Covering. Temperature. Night clothing.
Advice of Macnish on the number of persons to a bed. Preparation for
sleep. Suppers. The more on indulge in sleep, the more sleep we seem to
require. The reader urged to study the laws of rest and sleep. An
appeal.

CHAPTER XXII. INDUSTRY.

Education to industry. Man naturally a lazy animal. Indolence in
females. Hybernation. Every young woman ought to be trained to support
herself, should necessity require it, and to aid in supporting others.
She should, at least, be always industrious. Kinds of labor, Mental
labor as truly valuable as bodily.

CHAPTER XXIII. VISITING.

Is there no time for relaxation? May there not be passive enjoyments?
Passive enjoyments sometimes wrong. How Christian visits should be
conducted. Duty and pleasure compatible. Passive visits useful to
childhood. Folly of morning calls and evening parties. Bible doctrine
of visiting. Abuse of visiting.

CHAPTER XXIV. MANNERS.

Miss Sedgwick on good manners. Her complaint. Just views of good
manners. Good manners the natural accompaniment of an good heart. The
Bible the best book on manners. Illustrations of the subject.

CHAPTER XXV. HEALTH AND BEAUTY.

Dr. Bell's new work on Health and Beauty. Its value. Adam and Eve
probably very beautiful. Primitive beauty of our race to be yet
restored. Sin the cause of present ugliness. Never too late to reform.
Opinion of Dr. Rush. An important principle. The doctrine of human
perfectibility disavowed. Various causes of ugliness. Obedience to law,
natural and moral, the true source of beauty. Indecency and immorality
of neglecting cleanliness.

CHAPTER XXVI. NEATNESS AND CLEANLINESS.

Reasons for discussing these topics. Every person should undergo a
thorough ablution once a day. Quotation from Mrs. Farrar. Two important
objects gained by cold bathing. Its value as an exercise. Various forms
of bathing. Philosophy of this subject. Vast amount of dirt
accumulating on the surface. Statement of Mr. Buckingham. Bathing
necessary in all employments. Offices of the skin, and evil
consequences of keeping it in an uncleanly condition.

CHAPTER XXVII DRESS AND ORNAMENT.

Legitimate purposes of dress--as a covering, a regulator of
temperature, and a defence. Use of ornaments. Further thoughts on
dress. How clothing keeps us warm. Errors in regard to the material,
quality, and form of our dress. Tight lacing--its numerous evils.
Improvement of the lungs by education. Objections to the use of
personal ornaments.

CHAPTER XXVIII. DOSING AND DRUGGING.

Tendency of young women to dosing and drugging. "Nervousness." Qualms
of the stomach. Eating between  our meals--its mischiefs. Evils of more
direct dosing. What organs are injured. Confectionery. The danger from
quacks and quackery.

CHAPTER XXIX. TAKING CARE OF THE SICK.

The art of taking care of the sick should be a part of female
education. Five reasons for this. Doing good. Doing good by proxy.
Great value of personal services. How can young women be trained to
these services? Contagion. Breathing bad air. Aged nurses. . Scientific
instruction of nurses. Visiting and taking care of the sick a religious
duty. Appeal to young women.

CHAPTER XXX. INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT.

Futility of the question whether woman is or is not inferior to man.
Conversation as a means of improvement. Taciturnity and loquacity.
Seven rules in regard to conversation. Reading another means of mental
progress. Thoughts on a perverted taste. Choosing the evil and refusing
the good. Advice of parents, teachers, ministers &c. Advice of a choice
friend. Young people reluctant to be advised. Set hours for reading.
Reading too much. Reading but a species of talking. Composition. Common
mistakes about composing. Attempt to set the matter right.
Journalizing. How a journal should be kept. Music. Vocal music
something more than a mere accomplishment. Lectures and concerts.
Studies. Keys of knowledge.

CHAPTER XXXI. SOCIAL IMPROVEMENT.

Improvement in a solitary state. The social relations. Mother and
daughter. Father and daughter. Brother and sister. The elder sister.
Brethren and sisters of the great human family. The family
constitution. Character of Fidelia. Her resolutions of celibacy. In
what cases the latter is a duty. A new and interesting relation.
Selection with reference to it. Principles by which to be governed in
making a selection. Evils of a hasty or ill-judged selection.
Counsellors. Anecdote of an unwise one. Great caution to be observed.
Direction to be sought at the throne of grace.

CHAPTER XXXII. MORAL PROGRESS.

Importance of progress. Physical improvement a means rather than an
end. The same true of intellectual improvement. The general homage
which is paid to inoffensiveness. Picture of a modern Christian family.
Measuring ourselves by others. Our Saviour the only true standard of
comparison. Importance of self-denial and self-sacrifice. Blessedness
of communicating. Young women urged to emancipate themselves from the
bondage of fashion, and custom, and selfishness.




THE YOUNG WOMAN'S GUIDE.




CHAPTER I.

EXPLANATION OF TERMS.


Defining terms. The word excellence here used as nearly synonym with
holiness. What is meant by calling the work a Guide. The term
Woman--why preferable, as a general term, to Lady. The class to whom
this work is best adapted.


It has been said, and with no little truth, that a large proportion of
the disputes in the world might have been avoided, had the disputants
first settled the meaning of the terms they respectively used. In like
manner might a large share of the misapprehension and error in the
world be avoided, if those who attempt to teach, would first explain
their terms.

This work is called "The Young Woman's Guide to EXCELLENCE," because it
is believed that excellence, rather than happiness, should be the
leading aim of every human being. I am not ignorant that
happiness--present and future--is proposed as our "being's end and
aim," not only by as distinguished a poet as Alexander Pope, but also
by as distinguished a philosopher as William Paley. But these men did
not learn in the school of Christ, that our "beings end and aim" is
happiness, present or future. The Christian religion, no less than
Christian philosophy and sound common sense, teaches that holiness or
excellence should be the leading aim of mankind. Not that "the
recompense of reward," to which the best men of the world have had
regard in all their conduct, is to be wholly overlooked, but only that
it should not be too prominent in the mind's eye, and too exclusively
the soul's aim; since it would thus be but a more refined and more
elevated selfishness. Real excellence brings happiness along with it.
Like godliness--which, indeed, is the same thing--it has the promise of
the life that now is, and of that which is to come. And that happiness
which is attainable without personal excellence or holiness, is either
undeserved or spurious. The world. I know, very generally seek after
it, whether deserved or undeserved; and whether willing or not to pay
the price.

My object is to assist, if I can, in removing from our world the error
of seeking happiness as a primary object. Let us but pursue excellence,
and happiness will almost inevitably follow. I address this exhortation
to Young Women, in particular, for reasons which will be seen when I
come, in the next chapter, to speak of female responsibilities. Let
every young woman aspire to high degrees of purity and excellence. Let
her great aim be, to be personally holy--like God her Saviour. To this
end and with this aim, let her be ready to set aside, if necessary,
father and mother, and brother and sister--yes, and her own life
also,--assured that if she does it with a sacred regard to God and
duty, all will be well. Let her but follow Christ according to the
gospel plan, if it lead her to prison and to death. But it will not
thus lead her. For every self-denial or self-sacrifice it involves, she
will secure, as a general rule, manifold more in this present life, and
in the world to come, life everlasting.

This book is not called "The Young Woman's GUIDE," with the expectation
that she will consider it her only or even her principal guide. The
Bible should be the principal guide of every person, young or old, male
or female. Parents, also, are invaluable as guides. I offer it only as
the best guide which my reflections upon those subjects, connected with
the welfare of young women, that come within the department of my study
and observation, enable me to give. May it prove a guide indeed!

I have called it "The Young WOMAN'S Guide," because there are many who
are accustomed to associate with the word lady; the idea of exemption
from labor, and of entire devotion to something supposed to be above
it--as fashionable company, or fashionable dress and equipage. And not
a few can hardly hear the word mentioned without disgust. Miss Sedgwick
has illustrated this part of my subject very happily in the first and
fifteenth chapters of her "Means and Ends." She says she does not write
exclusively for those who are termed young _ladies;_ because she does
not believe in any such fixed class, in the country. The term _lady_,
she also says, is too indefinite for any valuable use. We not only
apply it to those who are, or would be, above labor, but in a great
many other ways--as that "old lady," meaning, perhaps, some beggar at
the door, &c.

In short, she does not like the use of the phrase, young lady, at all.
Neither do I. Besides, I like best the good old fashioned term, YOUNG
WOMAN. This exactly represents the class for whom I write, and that,
too, without either explanation or qualification. It will be mistaken
by no one, nor will it be likely to give or cause any offence.

Finally, I call the work "The YOUNG Woman's Guide," because I design it
for those single persons of the female sex to whom the term young is
usually applied; viz., those who are from twelve or fourteen to
eighteen or twenty years of age--and to those, in general, who are
single. I hope, nevertheless, that it will contain some thoughts which
may be useful to those individuals who are in married life, as well as
to those who are below the age of twelve years. Many of its suggestions
and principles will, indeed, be applicable--so far as they are just or
true--to all mankind.




CHAPTER II.

FEMALE RESPONSIBILITIES.


Comparison of the responsibilities of young men and young women. Saying
of Dr. Rush. Its application to young women. Definition of the term
education. Bad and good education. Opinions of Solomon. Influence of a
young woman in a family--in a school. Anecdotes of female influence.
West, Alexander, Cæsar, Franklin. Story of a domestic in Boston. The
good she is doing. Special influence of young women in families--and as
sisters. Female influence in the renovation of the world.


Much has been said, within a few years, of the duties,
responsibilities, &c., of young men, especially the young men of our
republic. A great deal that has been said, has, in my view, been
appropriate and well-timed. My own attention has been frequently turned
to the same class of individuals; nor do I regret it. My only regret
is, that what I have said, has not been said to better purpose.
Counsels and cautions to young men, standing on slippery places as they
confessedly do, can hardly be too numerous, provided those who give
them, use discretion, and remember their responsibility, not only to
the tribunal of public opinion, but to a tribunal still higher.

The snares, the dangers, the difficulties, the influence, the
responsibilities of young men--at least in the United States--can
hardly be overrated. Would that they could be so trained and directed
as fully to understand them, and govern themselves accordingly! Would
that they could be made to exert that moral influence in the salvation
of our race--politically no less than morally, nationally no less than
individually--of which they are so capable.

Yet, after every concession of this kind, I am compelled to believe
that the responsibilities and influence of young women--to say nothing
at present of their dangers--are much more weighty than those of young
men. I am decidedly of opinion, that the future holiness and happiness
of the world in which we live, depend much more on the character of the
rising generation of the female sex, than on the character of our young
men.

It was said by Dr. Rush, long ago, that mothers and school-masters
plant the seeds of nearly all the good and evil in our world.

Presuming that by school-masters he meant teachers of both sexes, will
any one doubt the truth of his assertion? Will any one doubt the
justness of a remark in the late "Western Review," that if this world
is ever to become a better and a happier world, woman must be foremost,
if not the principal agent in rendering it so?

But as mothers are never mothers till they have been daughters, is it
not obvious that the right education of these last is as great a work
as any to which human mind and human effort have ever been called? If
woman moves the world, intellectually, morally, and even, in effect,
politically--as no doubt she does--is it not of primary importance that
she be taught, as well as teach herself, to move it right?

Can it be necessary to advert, in this place, to the well known and
acknowledged fact, that almost every man of extensive influence, for
good or for evil, whom the world has produced, became what he was
through maternal influence? Cæsar, and Caligula, and Talleyrand, and
Napoleon, became what they were in consequence of their mothers, no
less than Alfred, and Doddridge, and Howard, and Washington. For let it
not be forgotten that mothers and teachers, according to Dr. Rush--and,
in fact, according to common observation, too--plant the seeds of the
world of evil no less than of the world of good. How exceedingly
important, then, that _they_ should be well educated, "from whom," in
the language of another writer, "our virtues are, and from whom our
vices may be"--we would add _must_ be--"derived;" at least in no small
proportion!

But I am using the term education without explaining it. Let me, then,
ere I proceed to say more on the subject of female responsibility,
explain what I mean by education, especially female education.

Mere instruction in the sciences is, indeed, education; it is, however,
but a very small part of it. To educate, is to train up. In this view,
all are of course educated; and every thing which has an influence in
developing mind or body, and in training up, either for good or for
evil, is entitled, justly, to the name of education.

But if the above definition be just--if whatever concerns our
development, or the formation of any part of our character, physical,
intellectual, social or moral, is education--then it must follow that
there are two kinds of education, bad and good. All persons, places and
things, which affect us (and what does not affect us?) and influence
us, for good or for evil, must educate us.

I am aware that this definition is not new: still, it is not generally
received, or if received, not generally acted upon. There is still an
almost universal clinging to the old, inadequate, incorrect idea, that
the principal part of education consists in the cultivation of the
intellect; and that, too, by set lessons; received, for the most part,
at the schools. The true idea of education, therefore, must be
continually enforced, till it becomes common property, and until
mankind act as if they believed what they profess in regard to it.

When Solomon says, "Train up a child in the way he should go," he is
talking of what I call _education;_ and the kind of education which he
is there recommending, is _good_ education. I do not believe he had the
schools in his mind--the infant school, the Sabbath school, the common
school, the high school, or the university.

Far be it from me to attempt to detract from the value of our schools;
on the contrary, I regard them as of inestimable worth, when duly
attended to. What I insist on is, that they are not the _all in all_ of
education; and that, in fact, their influence in training up or forming
good character, is so trifling--that is, comparatively--that they
scarcely deserve to be thought of when speaking of education, as a
whole, especially the education of daughters. And though one of the
tribes of the nation to which Solomon belonged, over which he reigned,
and for whom, in particular, he wrote, is said to have been
school-masters by profession, and another priests, I can hardly
conceive that when he was inspired to give the educational advice just
alluded to, he ever turned so much as a thought to the little corner of
Palestine allotted to Simeon, or to the Levites in their respective but
more scattered stations.

Solomon was, in all probability, addressing himself chiefly to the
fathers and mothers, and grand-fathers and grand-mothers, and other
relatives of Israel; the class who, by their united influence, make the
son and daughter, and grand-son and grand-daughter, what they are--a
blessing or a curse to the world in which they are to live. For,
according as children are brought up by these teachers, and by the
influences which are shed upon them from day to day and from hour to
hour, so are they well or ill educated.

If I have been successful in presenting the meaning of a term which is
not only frequently used in this book, but almost every where else, it
will follow, as a matter of course, that I do not attach too much
importance to the education of daughters themselves, nor to their
education as the teachers of others. For if to educate, is to form
character, what young woman can be found, of any age or in any family,
who is not a teacher?

Have young women often considered--daughters, especially--how much they
influence younger brothers and sisters, if any such there are in the
family where they dwell? Have they considered how much they sometimes
influence the character--and how much more they might do it--not only
of their school-mates and play-mates, but also of their more aged
friends and companions--their parents, grand-parents, and others?
[Footnote: On reading these paragraphs in manuscript, to one of our
more eminent teachers, he observed that if he had been useful in the
world, he owed his usefulness to the exertions of a maiden lady who
resided in his father's family, while his character was forming.]

I could tell them--were this the place for it--many a true story of
reading daughters who have been the means of awakening, in their aged
parents, or grand-parents, or other friends, a taste for reading, which
they might otherwise have gone down to the grave without acquiring. I
could tell them of many a father and mother, and grand-father and
grand-mother, grown grey in vice--hardened even by intemperance as well
as other vices--who have been reformed by the prattle, or the reproof,
or the prayers of a good daughter. Is not such a daughter a teacher?

But I am most anxious to convince young women of their responsibilities
in regard to the rising generation, especially their own brothers and
companions. I am anxious, if I can, to convince all who read this
volume, that God has, by his providence, committed to their charge, in
no small degree, the bodies, and minds, and the souls of those with
whom, in this world, they are associated. That according to their own
conduct, good or ill, will be, in no small measure, the health, and
knowledge, and excellence of their friends and companions. That
according to their efforts--attended, either by the blessing of God, or
the tokens of his displeasure--will be the condition of millions, for
time and for eternity.

But is it so? Are daughters, as daughters merely--to say nothing, as
yet, of maternal influence--are daughters thus influential? Is it true
that the destiny of millions is thus committed to their keeping?

I have seen the conduct of a whole school--I speak now of the common or
district school--graduated by the conduct of a single virtuous, and
amiable, and intelligent young woman, not twelve years old, who
attended it. I have seen a whole Sabbath school not a little affected
by the prompt attention, decorous behaviour and pious example of some
elder member of an older class, to whom the younger members of classes,
male and female, looked up, as to a sort of monitor, or I know not what
to call it--for the impression thus made, is better seen and felt than
described. The bad behaviour of a young woman, in these circumstances,
is, indeed, equally influential--nay, more so, inasmuch as the current
of human nature sets more readily downward than upward. Still, a good
example is influential--greatly so: would that it were generally known
how much so!

Suppose now that by your good behaviour and pious example in the
Sabbath school, you are the means of turning the attention of one
younger companion, male or female, to serious things, and of bringing
down upon that young person the blessing of Almighty God. Suppose that
individual should live to teach or to preach, or in some other form to
bless the world, by bringing numbers to the knowledge, and love, and
inculcation of the very truth which has saved his own soul--and these
last, in their turn, should become apostles or missionaries to others,
and so on. Is there any end, at least till the world comes to an end,
of the good influence which a good Sabbath school pupil _may_ thus
exert?

But this is something more than a supposed case. Is it not, in effect,
just what is actually taking place around us in the world continually?
Not, indeed, that a long train of good influences has been frequently
set agoing in the Sabbath school--for Sabbath schools are but of recent
origin. But people have always been led along to virtue or vice, to
piety or impiety, to bless the world or to prove a curse to it, by one
another. A word or a look from a relative, or friend, or acquaintance,
in the school or somewhere else, has often given a turn to the whole
character. A word, it is said, may move a continent. Something less
than a word--a look or a smile of approbation--may move more than a
continent. It may move not merely a West, [Footnote: A mother's kiss,
in token of her approbation of some little pencil sketch, is believed
by Benjamin West to have given the turn to his character--the character
of a who said, and justly, that he painted for eternity. "That mother's
kiss," he observes, "made me a painter."] but an Alexander, a Cæsar, a
Napoleon, a Washington and a Howard--men who, in their turn, moved a
world!

I have spoken of the influence which a young woman may have on millions
through the medium of the Sabbath school. But if she may influence in
this way, the millions of those who are to come after her, how much
more may she do in forming character for the great future, in the
family! Her presence in the Sabbath school is only once a week--an hour
or two a day, once in seven days; whereas, her influence in the family
is going on perpetually.

The clothes of Alexander the Great, are said to have been made, to a
very great extent, by his sisters; and those of Augustus Cæsar were
made for many years, by his. And can we doubt that these young females
were influential, in a great many respects, in the education of these
conquerors? What could the latter have done, but for the assistance and
influence of mothers and sisters? And can we have any Alexanders and
Cæsars, at the present day, to carry on the moral and intellectual
conquests which are so necessary in the world, without the aid and
co-operation of mothers and sisters?

Sisters little know--it is almost impossible for them ever to know--how
much they do to bring about results,--to educate their brothers and
friends, for the work which they perform, whether good or evil. The
sisters of Franklin little knew what they were doing for "young Benny,"
as they called him, while they assisted their mother in taking care of
his clothes, in preparing his food, and in ministering to his other
physical wants--yes, and to the wants of his mind, too. Who can say
that Benjamin Franklin would ever have been what Benjamin Franklin was,
without their aid, joined to the efforts of their mother?

Many a young female, having caught, in some degree, the spirit of doing
good, has sighed for opportunities. "What can I do?" she has seemed to
say, "here at home. If I could be a missionary at Ceylon, or South
Africa, or the Sandwich Islands, or even if I could be a teacher, I
could, perhaps, do something. But as it is, I must remain a mere cypher
in the world. I would do good, but I have no opportunities."

She who says this, is undoubtedly sincere. She is, however, greatly
mistaken. Her opportunities for doing good--for exerting an influence
to bless her race--"are neither few nor small." There is, indeed, a
difference, a very great difference, in human conditions and
circumstances; and yet I am persuaded, no female is so secluded as not
to be able to fulfil, towards her race, a most important mission.

I know of an excellent female who is often heard lamenting her want of
opportunity for usefulness. She has the spirit of doing good as she
supposes, and as I fully believe. And yet she is miserable--she makes
herself so--by repining continually at her want of ability to perform
the good works which her heart meditates. She would rejoice to devote
her self to the elevation of her race. She would gladly go to India, or
the South Seas, if her age and uncultivated intellect did not exclude
her from being a candidate. Now, without saying a word in disparagement
of foreign missions--for the success of which I would gladly contribute
largely, not only by prayers, but by pecuniary contributions--truth
compels me to say of this female, that I am by no means sure she could
do more for humanity, or more, in fact, for the cause of Christ, by a
foreign mission, than she is now doing by a domestic one.

A _domestic_ mission hers indeed is, in the fullest sense of the term.
She is an ordinary domestic--and no more--in the family to which she
belongs. But what is the condition of that family? The head of it is
the distinguished teacher of a private female seminary. Here he has
prepared hundreds of young women--so far, I mean, as the mere
instruction of what he calls a "family school," is concerned--for
usefulness as teachers, as sisters, as ministers to the aged, and as
mothers to the young. Suppose he has instructed, in his comparatively
excellent way, two hundred females. Suppose again one half of the
females he has instructed and counselled and lived among, should, in
their turn, each form as much character as he has already done--and he
is yet but a middle aged man; and suppose half the disciples of each of
these pupils in their turn should do the same, and thus on, till the
year of our Lord 2000, only, which is, as we have reason to believe,
but a little way towards the end of the world. Suppose one hundred only
of each two hundred, should live to have influence, seventy-five of
them as the mothers of families of the usual size, and twenty-five
only, as teachers. There will then be five generations in one hundred
and sixty years; and the number of children which will come under the
influence of this line or succession of mothers and teachers, will be
no less than ninety millions; or a number equal to six times the
present population of the United States.

Now what I have here supposed, is by no means beyond the pale of
possibility. Two hundred pupils is not a large number for one teacher
to instruct during his whole life. Nor is twenty-five a large
proportion of two hundred to become teachers. Nor is seventy-five a
large number in two hundred to live to have families; nor two children
in each family, upon an average, a very large number to come to
maturity and have families in their turn. Besides, I have reckoned but
four generations in one hundred and sixty years, exclusive of that now
educating. So that I have kept my estimates within due bounds in every
respect.

Do you ask what the domestic of whom I have spoken has to do with all
this? I answer, much--very much indeed. Has she not rendered to the
teacher in whose employ she has been, that kind of services, without
which he could not have followed his occupation? And if ninety
millions, or even one tenth that number of citizens should, in the
course of the next two centuries, reap the benefit of his labors, and
become lights in the world, is it too much to say that she has been an
important aid in accomplishing the work? Nay, is it even too much to
affirm that unless the part which she has acted had been performed by
her or somebody else, the school could not have gone on, and two
hundred young women could not have received the teacher's instructions?

Why, then, is not this humble domestic to whom I allude, a benefactor
to her race--if a benefaction it is, to raise up and qualify for
usefulness two hundred females--as well as he who has the whole credit
of it? I will not, indeed, say that any thing like as much credit is
due to her as to him; but I may say, and with truth, that she was an
important auxiliary in producing the results that have been mentioned.

But if a humble domestic, one who imagines herself so obscure as to be
of little service to a world which perhaps estimates her services
almost as low as she does herself--if such an individual may, besides
the general influence of her character upon a family, be an
indispensable aid in the work of sending forth to the world a host of
female missionaries, equal, in the progress of less than two centuries,
at the dawn of the millennium, to ninety millions, what may not be done
by a sister in _a well ordered family_--one who is not only well
educated and governed herself, but who educates and governs others well?

It may indeed be said, that a domestic, in the family of a
distinguished teacher, may indirectly influence, by her labors in the
way I have mentioned, a far greater number of her race than most
sisters are able to do. It may, indeed, be so. There is, however,
another consideration. It is chiefly the externals of education which
can receive attention, even in our best private schools. Little can be
done, at the best, to form character--deep, permanent, and abiding
character. Blessings indeed--great blessings--such schools are; but in
proportion as their numbers are increased beyond those of our larger
families, in the same proportion is the influence which might be
exerted by the teacher, scattered and weakened; whereas, if the number
be small, the influence of those who teach by example and by precept,
is concentrated, and rendered efficient. There is no certainty that the
feebler influence which is exerted on ninety millions, might not do
more good by being concentrated on one tenth or one twentieth that
number. In other words, if the same amount of pains were taken by
mothers and sisters, and the same amount of labor bestowed for the
purpose, there is no certainty that the world might not as soon be
rendered what it should be through the medium of family education
alone, as with the aid of other influences. Christianity, when brought
to bear upon the family by the united exertions of father, mother,
brothers and sisters, will probably have an influence on the
regeneration of the world, of which no human mind--uninspired at
least--has ever yet conceived.

Would that our young females--sisters especially--had but an imperfect
conception of the power they possess to labor in the cause of human
improvement! Would that they had but an imperfect idea of female
responsibility!

My remarks are applicable to all young women; but they are particularly
so to elder sisters. To them is given in special charge, the happiness
and the destiny of all younger brothers and sisters, be they ever so
numerous. As the desires of Abel were to be expressed to Cain, and the
latter was appointed to rule over the former, so is the elder daughter
appointed to rule over those whom God has, in the same manner,
committed to her trust. Happy is she who has right views of her weighty
responsibilities; but thrice happy is she who not only understands her
duty, but does it!

But if the moral character, much more than the physical and
intellectual well being of the family, is given in charge to elder
sisters, and even to all sisters, it is scarcely possible for them to
form a correct idea of the weight of their influence, in this respect
at least, till they are past the age when that influence is most
necessary, most persuasive, and most effectual.

I have seldom found a young man who had strayed long and widely from
the path of virtue, who had enjoyed the society and influence of a
wise, and virtuous, and attentive sister. On the contrary, I have
almost uniformly found such individuals to have been in families where
there were no sisters, or where the sisters were not what they ought to
have been; or to have been kept at schools where there were none but
our sex.

I beseech every young female reader to make herself acquainted, as far
as she possibly can, with the nature of her influence, and the
consequent responsibilities which devolve upon her. Let her understand
that the day has gone by in which physical force was supposed to rule
the world. Moral influence is now the order of the day; and they whose
moral influence is most weighty and powerful, are they who most
effectually bear rule. But as it is reserved for woman, when sensible,
enlightened, virtuous and pious, to exercise the most weighty moral
influence, consequently it is her province most effectually to bear
rule. Kings, and emperors, and presidents, parliaments, and congresses,
and assemblies, and courts, and legislators, and judges, may labor in
vain to influence or to reform mankind, so long as female influence is
not what it should be. But let females be rightly educated, and let
them do what a good education will enable them to do, and vice will ere
long hang her head, and virtue and piety--which alone exalt a nation,
or the individuals that compose it--will resume their sway. Then will
the wilderness and the solitary place be glad, and the desert rejoice
and blossom as the rose.




CHAPTER III.

SELF-EDUCATION.


Views of Agesilaus, king of Sparta--of Solomon, king of Israel. Mistake
corrected. What the wisest and best parents cannot do. What, therefore,
remains to the daughter. Necessity of self-education. The work of
self-education the work of life--a never-ending progress upward to the
throne of God.


Woman, then, now so often miseducated, must be trained in the way she
should go. But let us consider a little more in detail what this
education or training of woman should be, and what it should accomplish.

When Agesilaus, king of Sparta, was asked what things he thought most
proper for boys to learn, he replied--"Those which they ought to
practise when they come to be men." Nor does this essentially differ
from the direction of Solomon, which has been quoted.

If females do, in effect, rule the world, they ought, as I have before
said, to be trained to sway the sceptre of moral rule in the right
manner. If they now stand in the same position, as regards the world
and the world's happiness, with that which boys were supposed to occupy
in the days of Agesilaus, and if this thing was correct in his opinion,
then it follows that a proper answer to the question, What things are
most proper for girls to learn? would be--Those which they ought to
practise when they come to be women.

But it will not be forgotten that the definition I have given of the
term education includes much more than merely direct efforts to teach.
Whatever affects the health or the progress of body, mind or soul, even
though it were that in which the individual is mostly passive, as in
sleep, is a part of our education.

There is one point in which the views of Agesilaus concerning
education, if not incorrect, are at least defective. He appears to
countenance an idea, still very prevalent, that children and youth are
not only in a state of preparation for the future, but a state of
preparation, _merely_.

They are to be taught what they ought to practise when they come to be
men, according to Agesilaus; but according to the views of one who was
wiser than he, they are to be trained in the way they should go. The
latter view comes nearer the truth of the case than the former. It
requires, or at least permits us, to train up the child to-day for the
enjoyments of to-day, as well as for those of to-morrow--a point which
the maxim of Agesilaus does not seem to include.

Young people are taught, almost universally--by example, if not by
precept--to consider merit, if not virtue and happiness, as belonging
exclusively to maturity. They are not enough assured that youth, though
a state of preparation and trial, is also a state of reward; and that
neither usefulness nor happiness is confined to place, age or
circumstances.

I wish to see the day arrive when the young--young women,
especially--will not look forward so much to a distant day and to
distant circumstances, for a theatre of action, and for the rewards of
action, as they are accustomed to do; for they thus deprive themselves
of a vast amount of happiness which is due them in the _present_,
without in the least enhancing the value or the pleasures of the future.

I wish to see them so educated that they will not only be what they
should be, when they come to adult age, but also what they should be
now. They have or should have a character to acquire _now_; a
reputation to secure and maintain _now_; and a sphere of personal
usefulness and happiness to occupy _now_.

It is true, indeed, that childhood and youth are more specially seasons
of preparation, and less specially seasons of reward, than maturer and
later life; but it is also equally true, that every stage of life, not
excepting its very evening, is little more than a preparation for a
still higher state, where reward will predominate in a degree which
will make all previous preparation seem to dwindle almost to nothing.

Existence, in short, is a state of progress, having, at every step, so
far as we know, its trials and rewards--the rewards always, however,
predominating, and the trials diminishing, in proportion as personal
holiness renders the latter unnecessary.

It will happen, unavoidably, that many young women to whom this little
volume may come, will have been trained up, to the time of casting
their eyes on these pages, in the old fashioned belief to which I have
alluded--viz., that they can neither _do_ nor _be_ much in the world,
except to submit passively to certain processes which have received the
name of education, till their arrival at a certain size or age. The
fault, reader--if such should be the case--is not chargeable, solely,
on your parents. They followed a custom which they found; they did not
make it. But however this may be, it is clear that your great object
should now be, to see what you can do for yourself.

Now, then, here you are, twelve, fourteen, perhaps sixteen years of
age. Your parents have brought you up according to the existing
customs, _for the future_. They have not sought to make you feel your
present responsibilities, your present power to do good, your present
capacity for communicating and securing happiness, so much as to make
you believe there are responsibilities, and powers, and capacities, and
rewards, to be yours when you come to be large enough and old enough to
appreciate or receive them.

But whatever your parents may have left undone in regard to the
formation of your character, it is yours to do. Need I urge the
necessity of the case? The present is an exceedingly important period
of your life; and what is to be done, must be done quickly. But what
your parents have hitherto left undone, they will be likely to continue
to leave undone. Unless you apply yourself, therefore--and that
immediately--to the finishing of a work, that, owing to the
circumstances in which they have been and still are placed, and the
views they have entertained, they have left unfinished, your education
is not likely to be, by any means, so perfect as it should be. You must
take it up, therefore, where they have left it; and do, for yourself,
what they have not done for you. In other words, you must engage, at
once, in the great work of self-education.

It may, indeed, be the case, that you are the child of parents who have
done their best, and who have done it intelligently. Blessed is the
young woman who has such parents, but thrice blessed are the parents
themselves, if, in the performance of their work, they have the
co-operation of the daughter. There must be self-education even where
there are the best of parents. In fact, the work of parental training
and that of self-education, should go on together; they cannot well be
separated. Parental effort will produce but half its legitimate
results, when not seconded by the efforts of infancy and childhood, and
especially of youth. The reasons for this are so obvious that they
hardly need to be repeated. No young woman can be constantly in the
company of her mother; no mother can constantly watch over her
daughter. In the best families there are hours of each day, when the
child of every age, especially of youthful age and capacity, must be
left to herself or to the influence of others. What, then, is to become
of her? Is she to yield to that current of the world which every where
sets downward?

You will say, perhaps, that she has good habit on her side, together
with the counsels of good and kind parents. If so, I say again, she is
highly favored. But what if it happen to be otherwise? What if the
parents happen not to be wise and discriminating, or seem unable to
find time, in the bustle of a busy world, to do that which they know it
were desirable to do? What then?

I repeat the sentiment, then: if you have the best of parents, you are
liable, at your age, to be thrown, day after day, into new and untried
circumstances--such as it were next to impossible for parents to
foresee. New feelings will arise unknown to yourself, and
undiscoverable by them. New passions will make their appearance--new
temptations will solicit--new trials will be allotted you, In spite of
the best parental efforts at education, there will still remain to you
a great work of _self_-effort.

To assist you in it, is the leading object of this little volume. It is
not a substitute for parental counsels. It is not a substitute for your
own reflections. If it prove not an aid to parents, in their task, and
if it encourage not the reflection and the self-efforts of the young,
it will not accomplish its object.

In the preceding chapter I have endeavored to give a general idea of
education, as I understand and use the term. In this I have shown that
no small part of the great work of education devolves, in the best
circumstances--and much more in circumstances which are
unfavorable--upon the daughter. I have shown that her whole life is a
state of preparation, indeed--but also, in some measure, a state of
reward.

You perceive your own character and happiness, for time and for
eternity, to be placed, in no small degree and measure, in your own
hands--the efforts of parents, friends and teachers to the contrary
notwithstanding. You perceive the formation of that character, by the
combined efforts of your parents and others and yourself, to constitute
the work of your education. You perceive yourself capable--at least I
hope you do--of everlasting progress; of approaching the great source
of Light, and Truth, and Knowledge, and Excellence, forever and ever,
though without the possibility of attaining it. You perceive that,
though allied on the one side to the dust you tread on, you are allied
on the other side to heaven; that though connected by ties of
consanguinity to the worm you are also connected, or may be, with
angels and archangels, and cherubim and seraphim, in the glorious work
of unceasing progress upward toward the throne of God. Will you not,
then, hail with joy, every effort of every being who would assist your
spirit in its upward flight?

To educate yourself--to make progress--to ascend toward the Eternal
Throne,--you must know yourself--the laws within and without you--your
relations, by means of those laws, to other things and other
beings--your powers, your capacities, your prerogatives. You must,
moreover, know how to govern yourself in accordance with your knowledge.




CHAPTER IV

LOVE OF IMPROVEMENT.


Female capabilities. Doing every thing in the best possible manner.
Unending progress. Every person and every occupation susceptible of
improvement, indefinitely. Doing well what is before us. Anecdote
illustrative of this principle. Personal duties. Two great classes of
persons described. Hopes of reaching the ears of the selfish.


I have already said that you are capable of never-ending progress in
knowledge and excellence, and that it is alike your interest and your
duty to aspire to that perfection for which God has given you
capabilities. The object of the present chapter is to kindle within you
a desire to make progress in every thing you do--to go on, as the
Scripture expresses it, to perfection.

"Whatever is worth doing, is worth doing well," is an old but true
maxim. More than even this might be affirmed. Whatever is worth doing
at all, is worth doing in the best possible manner. No matter how well
you have done the same thing heretofore; no matter how much more
perfectly you already do it than your neighbors. You are not to make
the past of your own experience, or the present of your neighbor's, the
measure of your conduct. The question is--How well can I perform this
particular act now?

Perhaps no person who reads these paragraphs, will doubt the truth of
the general principle I have laid down. Thus far, it may be said, all
seems to be correct. We are, indeed, bound to do every thing we do, to
the glory of God; and he can hardly be glorified in the doing of a
thing in a manner which is short of the best in our power.

Yet, when we come to apply the principle, and say in what particulars
we should strive to make progress and do better, from day to day, and
from hour to hour, (if the thing is to be performed so often,) many an
individual will be found, I fear, to stand back; and among those who
thus shrink from the just application of admitted principle, will be
found not a few who, till now, supposed they had within them a strong
desire for perpetual improvement.

It is, my young friends, no _trifling_ matter to have burning within a
hearty desire for eternal progress. It is no small thing to do whatever
our hands find to do, which it is fit that an intelligent being--one
who belongs to the family of Christ--_should_ do, in such a manner that
it will contribute to the glory of God, and the good of mankind.

And yet less than this, as Christians or even as rational and immortal
beings, we cannot do. I know, indeed, that many who profess to be the
disciples of Christ, actually do less than this. I know there are
hundreds and thousands who are called by his worthy name, and who seem
to be almost above the liability to do that which could be regarded as
positively wrong, who, nevertheless, are very far from striving to do
everything which their hands find to do _with all their might_--or, in
other words, as well as they possibly can. But it is to be hoped that
the standard of Christian character will ere long be much higher than
it is now.

It is of far less consequence _what_ we do in the world, my young
friends, than how well we do it. There is hardly a useful occupation
among us, in which a person may not be eminently serviceable to himself
and to mankind. There is hardly one in which we may not constantly
improve ourselves. There is hardly one which will not afford us the
means and opportunities of improving others. There is hardly an
occupation which may not itself be essentially improved.

I do not mean to say there is no choice in occupations, either as
regards pleasantness or usefulness. Nor do I mean to say, that neither
parents themselves nor their children, are ever to consult their own
natural preferences--their own likes and dislikes. All I aim at is, to
convince the young--especially the young woman--that the old couplet,

                "Honor and shame from no condition rise;
                 Act well your part, there all the honor lies"--

is not so very far from the truth, as many suppose; and that happiness,
and even usefulness and excellence, are as little dependent on place
and condition, as honor and shame.

A mercantile man with whom I was once acquainted, gave me, in few
words, a very important lesson. He said he made it the rule of his life
to do, in the best possible manner, whatever at any time seemed, as a
subject of duty, to devolve upon him. No matter about his own likes or
dislikes--what appeared to be in the course of the dispensations of
Providence allotted him for the day, he performed with all his heart.
If he should conclude to pursue his present business for life, as the
means of procuring a livelihood, this would be the very best course of
preparation: if otherwise, it was the best under the circumstances; and
especially was it the best state of mental and moral discipline with
which he could be furnished.

To neglect the business before us because we are unhappy in it, or at
least not so happy as we fancy we might be in some other employment, is
to oppose the plans of Providence; nay, even to defeat our own purpose.
It is to disqualify ourselves, as fast as we can, for faithfulness, and
consequently for usefulness, in the employment we desire, should we
ever attain to it. The wisest course is, to do what our hands find
before them to do, provided it is lawful to do it at all, with all our
might.

The best possible preparation a young woman can have for a sphere of
action more congenial to her present feelings, is the one she now
occupies. She has, at least, duties to herself to perform. Let these,
as they recur, be performed in the best possible manner; and let the
utmost effort always be made to perform every thing a little better
than ever she performed it before--if it be but the washing of a few
cups, or the making of a bed. What her personal duties are, generally,
need not now be said: first, because many of them are obvious secondly,
because they will be treated of in their respective places. But it
should ever be borne in mind, that there is nothing ever so trifling,
which is worth doing at all, that may not be done better and better at
every repetition of the act; and that there is no occupation which may
not, in itself, be improved indefinitely.

Rising in the morning, devotion, personal ablutions, dressing,
breakfasting, exercise, employments, recreations, dining, conversation,
reading, reflection--all these, and a thousand other things which every
one, as a general rule, attends to--may be performed in a manner to
correspond more and more with the Scripture direction which has been
illustrated.

There are, in respect to what I am now mentioning, two classes of
persons in the world--of females as well as males; and they differ from
each other as widely, almost, as the world of happiness from the world
of misery. One of these classes lives to _receive_; is
selfish--supremely so. The other lives to _communicate_, more or
less--to do good--to make the world around it better. The last class is
benevolent.

A person of either class is not necessarily indolent or inactive; but
the end and aim of the labors of one, are _herself_; while the other
labors for God and mankind. The one procures honey from every
flower--formed by other hands--but not a flower does she ever raise by
the labor of her own hands, if she can possibly avoid it.

The one lives only to enjoy; the other, to be the continual cause of
joy, like her Creator. The latter has a source of happiness within; the
former depends for her happiness on others. Leave her alone, or amid a
frowning or even an indifferent world, and she is miserable.

Would that I could reach the ears of that numerous class who are
dependent on the world around them for their happiness--who never
originated any good, and are becoming more and more useless everyday!
Would that I could make them believe that true happiness is not to be
found externally, unless it first exist in their own bosoms! Would that
I could convince them that the royal road to happiness--if there be
one--is that which has been alluded to in the preceding paragraphs; in
making all persons and things around us better--in transmuting, as it
were, under the influence of the gospel, all coarser things around us
to "apples of gold in pictures of silver."

I long exceedingly to see our young women filled with the desire of
improvement--physical, social, intellectual and moral. I long to see
their souls glowing with the desire to go about doing good, like their
Lord and Master. Not, indeed, _literally_, as I shall have occasion to
say in another place. But I long to have their hearts expand to
overflowing with love to the world for whom Christ died; and I wish to
have some of the tears of their compassion fall on those over whom God
has given them an amazing, and often an unlimited influence.

Could I hope to reach a dozen minds, and warm a dozen hearts, which had
otherwise remained congealed, or at most received passively the little
stream of happiness which a naked, external world affords them, without
any corresponding efforts to form a world of their own--could I be the
means of enkindling in them that love for everlasting progress towards
perfection, which is so essential to the world's true happiness and
their own--could I thus aid in setting in motion an under-current which
should, in due time, restore to us Eden, in all its primitive, unfallen
beauty and excellence,--how should I be repaid for these labors!

I will dare to hope for the best. If I have the sacred fire burning in
my own bosom, I will hope to be the means of enkindling it in the bosom
of a few readers. If my own soul glows with love to a fallen world, I
will dare to hope that a few, at least, of those whose souls are more
particularly made for love and sympathy, will be led to the same source
of blessedness.




CHAPTER V.

SELF-KNOWLEDGE.


Vast extent of the science of self-knowledge. Spurious self knowledge.
Knowledge of our physical frame--its laws and relations. Examples of
the need of this knowledge. Instruments of obtaining it. The use of
lectures. Study of our peculiarities. Study of mental philosophy. The
Bible. How the Bible should be studied.


Self-knowledge is of the utmost importance to every human being. To no
person, however, is it more important than to the young woman.

It is the more necessary to urge the importance of self-knowledge, from
the fact that it is a species of knowledge which every one claims, and
which she would deem it almost a reflection upon her character to be
supposed not to possess; while it is that very knowledge of which
almost every one, of both sexes, is exceedingly ignorant.

Such an one "understands himself," is deemed quite a compliment among
our sex nor is it wholly disregarded by the other. But by this
expression is too often meant no more than a knowledge of the petty
acts and shifts, and I might say tricks, by means of which men and
women contrive to pass current in the fashionable world. How much this
kind of self-acquaintance is worth, is too obvious to need illustration.

I have represented a just self-knowledge as of very great importance;
but it is a science of vast extent, as well as of vast importance. A
thorough knowledge of one's self includes, first, a knowledge of man in
general, in his whole character--compounded as it is--and in all his
relations to surrounding beings and things; and, secondly, a knowledge
of the peculiarities produced by particular circumstances, condition,
mode of life, education and habits.

She who merely understands all the little arts to which I have alluded,
which enable us to pass current with a fashionable and grossly wicked
world, will find her self-knowledge exceedingly small, when she comes
to compare it with the standard of self-acquaintance set up by such
writers as Mason, Burgh, Watts, &c.; and, above all, when she comes to
compare it with the standard of the Bible. How little, nay, how
contemptible will all mere worldly arts and shifts appear--things which
at most belong to the department of manners--when she comes to
understand her three-fold nature, as exhibited by the natural and
revealed laws of Jehovah!

The Subjects of Anatomy, Physiology and Hygiene alone--and they teach
us little more than the laws and relations of the mere body or shell of
the human being--are almost sufficient for the study of a long life;
and yet no individual can ever thoroughly understand herself without
them: it is impossible. Anatomy shows us the _structure_ of this body,
which the Psalmist, long ago, taught us was fearfully and wonderfully
made. Physiology teaches us the _laws_ by which the living machine
operates--is kept in play for seventy, eighty, or a hundred years; and
Hygiene teaches us the _relations_ of the living, moving human body to
surrounding beings and objects. This, indeed, is a knowledge which few
young women possess; and yet it is a knowledge which no young woman,
who would do her utmost in the work of self-education, can dispense
with.

She wishes, perhaps, to improve her voice by conversation, reading and
singing. But is she qualified to do this in the best possible manner,
while she is wholly ignorant of the structure of the lungs, the
wind-pipe, and the fauces, as they are called--parts so intimately
concerned in the production of voice and speech?

She wishes, perhaps, to develope and invigorate her muscular system in
the highest possible degree; but how can she do this, while she knows
almost nothing of the nature or power of the muscular fibre?

She wishes to develope and cultivate her intellectual powers; to
acquire "firmness of nerve and energy of thought." But how can she do
it, if she is ignorant of the situation and functions of the cerebral
and nervous system--that wonderful organ of the intellect?

She would train her eye in the best possible manner; but how can she do
so, if she is ignorant of the nature and powers of that wonderful
little organ? She would educate, properly, all her senses; but how can
she do it, without a knowledge of their structure, functions and
relations?

Perhaps she would study the philosophy of dress, and of eating and
drinking. How can she do so, till she understands, intimately, the
relation of the human system to air, heat, the various kinds of food,
drink, &c.?

She would know, still further, the relation of body to mind, and of
mind to body--of body and mind to spirit, and of spirit to body and
mind. She would study the particular effect of one passion, or faculty,
or affection, upon the body, or upon particular functions of the bodily
system--and the more remote or more immediate effects of diseases of a
bodily organ on mind and spirit. She must know all this, and a thousand
times, yea, ten thousand times as much, before she is qualified to go
far in the work of self-knowledge.

But she must go beyond even all this, and study her own peculiarities.
It is not sufficient to understand the general laws and relations of
the human economy; she must understand herself in her own individual
character--physically, intellectually and morally. She must understand
the peculiarities of her physical frame, of her mental structure, and
of her spiritual condition--her relation to other spirits, particularly
to the Father of spirits.

How amazing and how extensive--I repeat it--the science of
self-knowledge! To be perfect in it we need the life of a Methuselah!
But something may be done, even in the short period of seventy years.
And if it be but little that we can do in a life time, this
consideration only enhances the value of that little.

Something, I have said, may be done in the short period of seventy
years. But I might say more. Something may be done in a single day. And
years are made up of days. A little done, every day, amounts to much in
a whole year.

Let not the individual despair who can get but one new idea respecting
herself, in a day. If she can sit down at quiet evening and say, I know
something respecting myself which I did not know last night at this
time, let her be assured the day is not lost. One idea a day is three
hundred and sixty-five a year; and three hundred and sixty-five a year,
amount, in seventy years, to twenty-five thousand five hundred and
fifty. There _are_ those who can hardly be said, at seventy years of
age, to have twenty-five thousand five hundred and fifty ideas in their
heads.

It is a matter of joy to every friend of self-knowledge, that so many
means have been, of late years, devised to facilitate the study of this
science. The lectures which have been given to both sexes on the
structure, laws and relations of their bodily constitution, and the
books which have been written, have made a considerable change in the
state of the public sentiment respecting this species of knowledge. For
it is not they alone who have heard or read, that have reaped the
benefit of hearing and reading on this subject. Many a parent or
teacher, aware that such instructions and books were abroad, has been
encouraged to the performance of that which she might not have dared to
do, had nothing been said or done to encourage her.

Every young woman should, therefore, study these subjects for herself.
Such books as those of Miss Sedgwick--her "Poor Rich Man, and Rich Poor
Man," and her "Means and Ends"--will prepare the way, or will at least
enkindle the desire, for the kind of knowledge of which I am speaking.
She will then desire to read the works of the Combes, and perhaps, ere
long, some of the other popular books of our day, which treat of
Physiology and Hygiene. May I not venture to hope, that at an early
stage of her progress, some of the chapters of _this_ book will be
found serviceable, as well as several other works I have prepared,
especially the little volume called the "House I Live In?"

She who, having a hearty desire for improvement in self-knowledge, on
an extended scale, lets her years pass without looking into any of the
volumes or treatises to which I have referred, can hardly be said to
act up to the dignity of a Christian of the nineteenth century.

But it is not the physical department of her nature alone, that she who
has the desire for self-knowledge and self-progress, should study. Such
works as those of Mason on Self-Knowledge, Burgh on the Dignity of
Human Nature, Watts on the Mind, Opie on Detraction and Scandal,
Wayland on Moral Science, Skinner on the Religion of the Bible, &c.
&c., should not only be perused, but carefully studied. It is to little
purpose, that is, comparatively, that our physical nature is
attentively and assiduously studied and cultivated, if it lead not to
the more intimate and more earnest study of the immortal spirit.

In this better department--the spiritual--permit me, _once_ more, to
direct your attention to the Bible. It should be studied chiefly
without note or comment. Your own good sense, brought to bear upon its
simple, unstudied, unscholastic pages, accompanied by that light from
on high which is ever vouchsafed to the simple, humble inquirer and
learner, will be of more value to you than all the notes, and
commentaries, and dictionaries in the world, without it. It is a book
which is most admirably adapted to the progress of all grades of
mind--those which are but little developed, no less than those which
are more highly cultivated. Other books speak to the intellect--to the
head; this speaks to the heart. Other books often plead for human
nature; this presents it just as it is--its perversity and deformity on
the one side; its susceptibilities to improvement, its capability of
excellency, on the other. Though it reveals to us our humble
origin--the brotherhood of worms--on the one side, it unveils to us our
relation to angels and archangels, on the other. Nay, more; it not only
shows us our relation to the celestial hosts, and to Him who presides
in their midst, but it points out to the penitent and the humble, the
road which, through divine grace, will conduct them thither.

I have spoken of the study of the Bible without note or comment. Notes
and comments, indeed, after you have made diligent use of all your own
faculties and powers, and sought thereon the blessing of God's Spirit,
have their use. I am exceedingly fond of them: and I would not wholly
deny to you what I am so fond of myself. The danger is, of leaning upon
them too much. Scott, and Clarke, and Henry, and Jenks, and Calmet, and
Barnes, and Bush, may help to show me the true way of finding out and
interpreting the Scripture for myself; but if I go farther, and either
indolently or superstitiously suffer them to interpret it for me, it
were almost better that I had not sought their aid. But the Bible, with
or without notes, is--I repeat it--the great volume of self-knowledge
which I urge you to study, and which, in comparison with all the books
written by man, and even the great volume of nature herself, is alone
able to make you wise to salvation.

It seems to me to have been too seldom observed, and still more seldom
insisted on, how apt the love and study of the Bible are to awaken the
dormant intellectual faculties, and to enkindle, even in the aged, a
desire for general improvement. On this point, Mr. Foster, in his essay
on Popular Ignorance, has some very striking remarks. In alluding to
that great moral change which it is one object of the Bible to produce,
and to the consequences which often immediately follow, he thus remarks:

"It is exceedingly striking to observe how the contracted, rigid soul
seems to soften, and grow warm, and expand, and quiver with life. With
the new energy infused, it painfully struggles to work itself into
freedom from the wretched contortion in which it has been so long
fixed, as by the impressed spell of infernal magic."

This change in the moral and religious man, has been often observed;
and Mr. Foster, therefore, tells us nothing very new, however striking
it may be. But now for the secondary effect which is produced on the
intellect, and, indeed, on the whole character:

"It (the soul) has been seen filled with a painful and indignant
emotion at its own ignorance; actuated with a restless desire to be
informed; acquiring an unwonted applicableness of its faculties to
thought; attaining a perception combined of intelligence and moral
sensibility, to which numerous things are becoming discernible and
affecting, that were as non-existent before. We have known instances in
which the change--the intellectual change--has been so conspicuous,
within a brief space of time, that even an infidel observer must have
forfeited all claim to a man of sense, if he would not make the
acknowledgment--This that you call divine grace, whatever it may really
be, is the strangest awakener of faculties, after all."

I have made this quotation, chiefly to confirm the sentiment I have
advanced, that the love of the Bible and the religion of the Bible,
actuates the soul with "a restless desire to be informed," and
stimulates its faculties to thought, and fills it with pain and
indignation at its own ignorance. This is the state of mind and heart
which I would gladly encourage in the reader. It is the truest and best
foundation of all progress, not only in self-knowledge, but in every
other sort of knowledge which is valuable. Give me but this trait of
character in a young woman, and I will not despair of her, however low
may be her present condition, or how degraded soever may have been her
former life. Give me but a hearty desire, a hungering and thirsting for
improvement--physical, moral, intellectual, social and religious--and I
will dare to believe that the most debased and depressed soul _may_ be
restored, at least in some good measure, to that likeness to Jehovah in
which it was originally created.

One thing more, however, should be remembered. Not a few who really
have within them the desire of improvement, and who mean to make the
Bible and its doctrines their standard, fail of accomplishing much
after all. The reason is, they measure themselves, continually, by
their neighbors. If they are no more ignorant or no more vicious than
their neighbors--Misses S. and L., perhaps--or on the other hand, if
they are as wise and as virtuous as Miss R.--they seem to rest
satisfied. Or at any rate, if, they make as much progress in the great
path of self-knowledge, or do as much good in the world as the latter,
they are anxious for no more, and settle down in inaction.

Now every such individual ought to know that the habit of measuring
herself by others, in this way, will hang like a millstone about her
neck; and if it do not drown her in the depths of ignorance and
imbecility, will at least make her forever a child, in comparison with
what she should be. It will keep her grovelling on the earth's surface,
when she ought to be exploring the highest heavens. It will keep her a
near neighbor to the sisterhood of worms on which she treads, when she
ought to be soaring towards those lofty heights which Gabriel once
traversed--nay, which he even now traverses--fast by the throne of the
Eternal.

Let her not stop, then, to demean, and embarrass, and fetter herself by
comparisons of herself with any thing finite. She has no right to do
this. The perfection which the word of God requires, is the standard or
measure by which she should compare herself. She may, indeed, sometimes
compare herself with herself--her present self with her past
self--provided it be done with due humility; but let her beware of
measuring herself by others. Such a course is as perilous as it is
ignoble and unprofitable.




CHAPTER VI.

CONSCIENTIOUSNESS.


Is there any conscientiousness in the world? How far conscientiousness
should extend. Tendency and power of habit Evils of doing incessantly
what we know to be wrong. Why we do this. Errors of early education.
False standard of right and wrong. Bad method of family discipline.
Palsy of the moral sensibilities. Particular direction in regard to the
education of the conscience. Results which may be expected.


There is such a want of conscientiousness among mankind, even among
those who are professedly good people, that one might almost be
pardoned for concluding that there is either no conscience in the
world, or that the heavenly monitor is at least no where fully obeyed.
For is there not too much foundation for such a conclusion?

While truth compels us to admit that Christianity has already done much
to awaken the consciences of men, we shall gain nothing by shutting our
eyes to the vast influence it has yet to exert, before mankind will
become what they ought to be.

Most people are conscientious in _some_ things. They may have been so
trained, for instance, that they are quite tender in regard to the
feelings of others, and even those of animals. There are many who, with
Cowper, "would not enter on their list of friends the man who
needlessly sets foot upon a worm," who are yet very far from possessing
much real conscientiousness. Their feeling is better entitled to the
name of _sympathy_.

I grant that many of these persons possess something more than mere
tenderness or sympathy. Not a few of them are truly conscientious in
what may be called the larger concerns of life--especially in external
religion. They not only feel the force of conscience, but they obey her
voice in some things. They would not fail to attend to all the outward
rites of religion in the most faithful manner, on any account whatever;
and if a failure should occur, would find their consciences reproaching
them in the severest manner, for their departures from a known standard
of duty.

These persons regard, with a considerable degree of conscientiousness,
the law of the land and the law of public opinion, or at least the law
of fashion. In respect to any thing which would subject them to the
severity of public remark, or which would even be regarded by the
coarse, public eye, as glaringly inconsistent with their religious
character, they are never wanting in sensibility. Their consciences
reproach them, when they have done or said any thing which may cause
them to be ill spoken of.

Thus far, it cannot be denied that there is a great deal of
conscientiousness in the world. But beyond limits something like these,
it is much more rare than many suppose. To say that it does not exist
beyond such narrow limits, would be unjust; but it must be admitted
that, taking the world at large, its existence is so rare, as hardly to
entitle it to the name of a living, moving, breathing principle of
action.

I do not suppose that young women are less conscientious than young
men; nor that the young of either sex are less conscientious than their
seniors. It would be a novel if not unheard of thing, to find the youth
without conscience, merging, in due time, into the conscientious
octogenarian. The contrary is the more common course.

And yet how few are the young women who make it a matter of conscience
to perform every thing they do--the smaller no less than the larger
matters of life--in such a way as to meet the approbation of an
internal monitor. Do they not generally bow to the tribunal of a
fashionable world? Do they generally care sufficiently, in the every
day actions, words, thoughts and feelings of their lives, what God's
vicegerent in the soul says about their conduct?--or if they _do_ care,
is it because it is right or wrong in the sight of God--or of _man_?

A due regard to the authority of conscience would lead people, as it
seems to me, to yield obedience to her dictates on every occasion. They
who disregard her voice in one thing, are likely to do so in others.
Who does not know the power of habit? Who will deny that the individual
who habitually disregards the voice speaking within, on a particular
subject will be likely, ere long, to extend the same habit of disregard
to something else; and thus on to the end of the chapter, if any end
there be to it?

No one, it is believed, will doubt that I have rightly described the
tendency of habit in large matters. He who would allow himself to steal
from day to day, unmindful of the voice within which bids him beware,
would not only, ere long, if unmolested, come to a point at which
conscience would cease to reproach him, but would be likely to venture
upon other kinds of wrong. I have seen those who would habitually steal
small things, and yet would not tell a lie for the world. But I have
known the habit of stealing continue till lying also gradually came to
be a habit, and was scarcely thought of as offensive in the sight of
God, or as positively wrong in the nature of things, any more than
picking up a basket of pebbles. From lying, the natural transition is
to profanity--and so on, till conscience, chased up and down like the
last lonely deer of a forest, at length exhausted, faints and dies.

Few, I say, will deny the tendency and power of habit, in regard to the
larger matters of life. But is it sufficiently known that every act
which can possibly be regarded as fraudulent in the smallest degree,
has the same tendency?

There are a thousand things that people do, which cannot be set down as
absolutely criminal, in the view of human law, or human courts, and
which are not forbidden in any particular chapter or verse of the
divine law, which, notwithstanding, are forbidden by the spirit of both.

Human law, no less than divine law, requires us to love our neighbor as
ourselves. Is the law obeyed when we make the smallest approach to
taking that advantage of a neighbor, which we would not like to have
taken of us in similar circumstances?

Those who admit and seem to understand the power of habit in larger
matters, are yet prone to forget the tendency of an habitual disregard
of right and wrong in small matters. They are by no means ignorant,
that large rivers are made up of springs, and rills, and brooks; but
they do not seem to consider that the larger stream of
conscientiousness must also be fed by its thousand tributaries, or it
will never flow; or once flowing, will be likely soon to cease. In
other words, to be conscientious--truly so--in the larger and more
important concerns of life, we must be habitually, and I had almost
said religiously so, in smaller matters--in our most common and every
day concerns.

Would that nothing worse were true, than that people of all ranks and
professions, and of all ages and conditions, habitually, and with less
and less compunction or regret, do that which they know they ought not
to do, and leave undone that which they very well know ought to be
done. For they even seem to justify themselves in it.

              "I know the right, and I approve it too;
               I know the wrong, and yet the wrong pursue"--

is the language of many an individual--even of some from whom we could
hope better things; and not a few charge it upon the frailty of fallen
nature--as that nature now is--independent of, and in spite of their
own efforts! Strange infatuation!

One way of solving this great riddle in human life and conduct--this
incessant doing by mankind of that which they know they ought not to
do, and neglecting to do that which they know ought to be done--may be
found in the fact that so few are trained to regard, in every thing,
the sacred rights of conscience. They are referred to other and more
questionable standards of authority.

If you do so and so, you will never be a lady, says a mother who wishes
to dissuade her young daughter from doing something to which she is
inclined. If you behave so, every body will laugh at you, says another.
If you do not obey me, I shall punish you, says a third. If you don't
do that, I shall tell mother, says a young brother or sister. If you do
not do it, father will give you no sugar toys, when he comes home, the
child is again told. If you don't mind me, the bears will come and eat
you up, says the petulant nurse or maid-servant. Thus, in one way or
another, and at one time or another, every motive--love, fear,
selfishness, pleasure, &c.--is appealed to in the education of the
young, except that which should be _chiefly_ appealed to--viz.,
self-approbation, or the approbation of conscience.

This is not all. There is with many of these people no settled rule as
to which sort of actions are to be the subjects of praise or of blame.
A thing which must not be done to-day, on penalty of the loss of the
forthcoming sugar toys, is connived at, perhaps with a kiss, to-morrow.
All in the child's mind is confusion; she knows not what to do, were
she as docile and as obedient as an angel of light. There is a long
series of actions, words, thoughts and feelings, connected with right
and wrong, of which nothing is ever said, except to forbid them, by
stern and absolute authority. That one is good, and another bad, except
according to the whim or fancy of the parent or teacher, the child
never suspects.

Of this last class are almost all the actions of every-day life. The
child alluded to is scolded, at times, for default in matters which
pertain to rising, dressing, saying prayers, eating, drinking, playing,
speaking, running, teazing, or soiling its clothes or books, and a
thousand things too familiar to every one to render it necessary to
repeat.

Perhaps she eats too much, or eats greedily; or she inclines to be
slovenly, or indolent, or fretful. Now all these things are in general
merely forbidden or _rated_, or at most, shown to be contrary to the
will of the parents. They are seldom or never shown to be right or
wrong, in their own nature; nor is the child assured, upon the
authority of the parent, that there is a natural right or wrong to
them. Thus, what is not implanted, does not, of course, grow. All the
little actions and concerns of life, or almost all--and these, by their
number and frequent recurrence, make up almost the whole of a child's
existence--are, as it were, left wholly without the domain of
conscience; and the young woman grows up to maturity without a distinct
conviction that conscience has any thing to do with them.

And "what is bred in the bone," according to a vulgar maxim, "stays
long in the flesh." As is the child, so is the adult. It is one of the
most difficult things in the world to make a person conscientious in
all things, who has not been trained to be so. Hence the great
difficulty in the way of making every-day Christians. Our religion is
thought by some to have nothing to do with these ever-recurring small
matters. And when we are told that we should do every thing to the
honor and glory of God, although we may assent to the proposition, it
is hard to put it in practice. There is a sort of moral palsy
prevailing in the community--and that, too, very extensively.

No fatal error of early education could have seized more firmly, or
palsied more effectually the moral sensibilities of the whole
community, than this. And therefore it is certain that this is at least
one principal reason why there is so little conscience in the world,
and why it is so often a starveling wherever it is found to exist.

I have heard an eminent teacher contend with much earnestness, that
there is a great multitude of the smaller actions of human life which
are destitute of character--wholly so. They are, he says, neither right
nor wrong. But if so, then is there no responsibility attached to them;
and, consequently, no conscientiousness required in connection with
their due performance. But what, in that case, is to become of the
injunction of a distinguished apostle, when he says, WHATEVER you do,
do all to the glory of God? If every thing we do should be done to the
glory of God, and not thus to do it, is to disobey a righteous precept,
then there is a right and wrong in every thing. Now which shall we
believe--the human teacher or the divine?

This origin of a common error, I have deemed it necessary for every
young woman to understand, that she may know how to apply the
correction, and where to begin. She should love and respect her
parents, even if they belong to the class which has been described. She
should consider the present imperfect state of human nature, and be
thankful for the thousand benefits she has received at their hands, and
the various means of improvement within her reach.

If she has drank deeply of the desire for improvement, and if she
wishes to know and to reform herself as fast as possible, let her begin
by cultivating, to the highest possible degree, a sense of right and
wrong, and an implicit and unwavering obedience to the right.

Before closing this chapter, however, I wish to present a few
illustrations of my meaning, when I say that every thing should be done
in a conscientious manner. Perhaps, indeed, I am already sufficiently
understood; but lest I should not be by all, I subjoin the following.

Suppose a young woman is in the habit of lying in bed late in the
morning. In view of her varied responsibilities and of the vast
importance of rising early, and with a strong desire for continual
improvement, she sets herself to change the habit.

Now to aid her in her task--for it is no light one--let her endeavor to
consider the whole matter. God gives us sleep, she will perhaps say to
herself, for the restoration of our bodies and minds; and all the time
really necessary for this is well employed. But I have found that I
feel better, and actually enjoy myself better, for the whole day
following, when, by accident or by any other means, I have slept an
hour less than I am accustomed to do. I usually sleep nine hours or
more, whereas I am quite sure eight are sufficient for every reasonable
purpose.

Moreover, if I sleep an hour too much, that hour is wasted. Have I a
right to waste it? It is God's gift; is it not slighting his gift, to
spend it in sleep? Is it not a sin? And to do so day after day and year
after year, is it not to make myself exceedingly guilty in his sight?
One hour, daily saved for the purpose of reading or study, after a
person has really slept enough, is equal, in sixteen years, to the
addition of a full year to one's life. Can it be that I waste, in
sleep, in fifteen or sixteen years, a whole year of time?

I must do so no longer. It injures my complexion; it injures my health;
it is an indolent practice: but above all, it is a sin against God.

I am resolved to redeem my time. And to aid me in this work, I am
determined, if I fail in any instance, to remember this decision, and
the grounds on which it was made.

She carries out her decision. She finds herself waking too late,
occasionally, it is true. However, she not only hurries out of bed the
instant she wakes, but recalls her former view of the sinfulness of her
conduct. She is no sooner dressed, than she asks pardon for her
transgression, and prays that she may transgress no more. This course
she continues; and thus her convictions of the sinfulness of her former
indolent habit and waste of time are deepened. At length, by her
persevering efforts and the assistance of God, she gains the victory,
and a new and better habit is completely established.

Just so should it be with any other bad habit. Every young woman should
consider it as a sin against God, and should begin the work of
reformation as a duty, not only to herself and to others, but also and
more especially to God. If it be nothing but the error of eating too
much--which, by the way, is not so small an error as many seem to
suppose--let her try to regard it in its true light, as a transgression
against the laws of God. Let it be so regarded, not merely once or
twice, but habitually. In this way it will soon become--as in the case
of early rising--a matter of conscience.

The close of the day, however, is a specially important season for
cultivating the habit of conscientiousness. Sleep is the image of
death, as some have said; and if so, we may consider ourselves at
bed-time, as standing on the borders of the grave, where all things
should look serious.

The "cool of the day" is peculiarly adapted to reflection. Let every
one, at this time, recall the circumstances of the day, and consider
wherein things have been wrong. It was a sacred rule among the
Pythagoreans, every evening, to run thrice over, in their minds, the
events of the day; and shall Christians do less than heathen?

The Pythagoreans did more than cultivate a habit of recalling their
errors; they asked themselves what good they had done. So should we. We
should remember that it is not only sinful to do wrong, but that it is
also sinful to _omit to do right_. The young woman who fears she has
said something in regard to a fellow being in a certain place, or in
certain company, which she ought not to have said, as it may do that
person injury, should remember, that not to have said something, when a
favorable opportunity offered, which might have done a companion or
neighbor good, was also equally wrong. And above all, she should
remember, that both the _commission_ and the _omission_ were sins
against that God who gave her a tongue to do good with, and not to do
harm; and not only to do good with, but to do the greatest possible
amount of good.

In short, it should be the constant practice of every one who has the
love of eternal improvement strongly implanted in her bosom, to
consider every action performed, during the day, as sinful, when it has
not been done in the best possible manner, whether it may have been one
thing or another. As I have stated repeatedly elsewhere, there is
nothing worth doing at all, which should not be done to the honor and
glory of God; and she who would attain to the highest measure of
perfection, should regard nothing as done in this manner, which is not
done exactly as God her Saviour would have it done.

It is desirable not only to avoid benumbing or searing over the
conscience, but that we should cultivate it to the highest possible
tenderness. True, these tender consciences are rather _troublesome_;
but is it not better that they should torture us a little now, than a
great deal hereafter?

I have said that some good people--that is, those who are comparatively
good--fall short in this matter. A young woman is a teacher, perhaps,
in a Sabbath school. She knows, full well, the importance of attending
promptly at the appointed hour; and she makes it a point thus to
attend. At last she fails, on a single occasion--not from necessity,
but from negligence, or at least from want of due care--and her
conscience at once reproaches her for her conduct. But, ere long, the
offence is repeated. The reproaches of her conscience, though still
felt, have become less keen. The offence is repeated, again and again,
till conscience is almost seared over--and the omission of what had at
first given great pain, almost ceases to be troublesome. And thus the
conscience, having been blunted in one respect, is more liable to be so
in others. Alas for the individual, who is thus, from day to day,
growing worse, and yet from day to day becoming less sensible of it!

But there is a worse case than I have yet mentioned. A young woman has
risen rather late on Sunday morning; and having risen late, other
things are liable to be late. The hour for church is at length near;
the bell is even ringing. Something in the way of dress, not very
necessary except to comply with fashion, and yet on the whole
desirable, remains to be done during the remaining five minutes; but
what is more important still, the habit of secret prayer for five
minutes before going to church, is uncomplied with. One of these, the
closet or the dress, must be neglected for want of time. Does any one
doubt which it will be? Does any one doubt that the dress will receive
the desired attention, and that the closet will be neglected?

But does any one suppose that conscientiousness can live and flourish
where it is not only not cultivated, but habitually violated, in regard
to the most sacred matters? Secret prayer is one of the most sacred
duties; and they who habitually neglect or violate it, for the salve of
doing that which is of secondary importance--knowing it to be so--are
not only taking the sure course to eradicate all conscientiousness from
their bosoms, but are most manifestly preferring the world to God, and
the love and service of the world, to the love and service of its
glorious Creator and Redeemer.

Let me say, in concluding this chapter, that if the conscience is
cultivated from day to day, it will, in time, acquire a degree of
tenderness and accuracy to which most of the world are entire
strangers. There is, however, one thing more, Conscience will not only
become more tender and faithful, but her _domain_ will be much enlarged
by the study of the Bible; and in many cases is which this heavenly
monitor was once silent, she will now utter her warning voice.
Conscience is not unalterable, as some suppose she is susceptible of
elevation as long as we live; and happy is the individual who elevates
her to her rightful throne. Happy is the individual who sees things
most nearly as God sees them, and whose conscience condemns her in
every thing which is contrary to the divine will.




CHAPTER VII.

SELF-GOVERNMENT.


What self-government includes. Cheerfulness a duty. Discretion.
Modesty. Diffidence. Courage. Vigilance. Thoughts and feelings. The
affections. The temper. The appetites and passions.


This is so broad a subject that I shall present my thoughts concerning
it under several different heads. It includes, in my estimation, the
government of the THOUGHTS, the IMAGINATION, the TEMPER, the
AFFECTIONS, and the APPETITES. The young woman who truly governs
herself, will be at once _cheerful, discreet, modest, diffident,
vigilant, courageous, active, temperate_ and _happy_.

Cheerfulness.--Is cheerfulness within our power? some may be inclined
to ask. I certainly regard it so. That there are moments of our
lives--nay, even considerable seasons--when cheerfulness is not
required, may, indeed, be true. Our friends sicken and die, and we
mourn for them. This is a law of our nature. Even our Saviour was, at
times, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; though of all
individuals in the universe cheerfulness was his right. But he bore
more than his own sorrows; and in so far as his example is, in this
respect, binding upon us, it is only when we bear the sorrows of
others. Those should, indeed, often be borne; and in proportion as they
are borne--in proportion as we are wounded for the transgressions, and
bruised for the iniquities of others--it may not be possible for us to
be continually cheerful.

As for our own sorrows--the sufferings, the pangs, the bereavements of
our own existence--we should never cease to regard them, in some
measure, at least, as the chastisements of an Almighty Father. Smitten
friends, according to the sentiment of a distinguished poet, are
messengers of mercy to us--are sent on errands full of love.

                 "For us they sicken, and for us they die."

We should be at least resigned, even under such chastisements, when we
remember they are inflicted by a Father's hand.

But setting aside occasions of this kind, is there not a demand on our
whole nature, for general cheerfulness? It is not only the "sunshine of
the soul," but that of the body. The truly cheerful are not only
happier in their minds and spirits, but also in their very bodies. The
brain and nervous system play their part in the great drama of physical
life better; the heart, and stomach, and lungs, work better. Indeed,
all is better throughout.

Is not that a duty which is productive of so much happiness? But can
that be a duty which it is not in our power to perform? It were surely
an impeachment of the wisdom and goodness of God, did he require us, in
his providence or in his word--by his natural or his revealed law--to
do that of which we are incapable.

I consider cheerfulness, then, as a matter of duty; and, of course, as
in a great measure in our power. It makes us happier ourselves; it
enables us to reflect more happiness on others. I consider it
especially as a duty of the young, who have it in their power to
communicate happiness thereby in such large measure. Let them--let
young women especially--strive to cultivate it. It is in its nature a
perennial plant; and if it is not such at the present time, it is
because it has degenerated in a degenerate world. Let it be restored to
its pristine beauty; and let the world thereby--in connection with
other means tending to the same end--be restored to what it was before
the loss of Eden.

Discretion.--This is a virtue with which, it is supposed by some, the
young have little if any thing to do. I cannot assent to such an
opinion. I believe that the young are to be trained in the way they
should go; and as discretion is prominently a virtue of middle and
later life, I deem it desirable that we should see at least the germs
of it in the young.

Above all, do I like to see the young woman discreet. Discretion not
only heightens the pleasures of her existence, but adds greatly to her
reputation in the just estimation of the wise. Coupled with modesty, of
which I am to speak presently, it more than doubles her charms.

Let discretion then be studied. Let it be studied, too, for its
immediate as well as remote benefits. It will, indeed, bear fruit more
abundantly in later life; but it will not be without its value in
youth. It is a plant which it were worth while to cultivate, if human
existence were more frail, and life more uncertain of continuance than
it now is.




MODESTY.--Of all the qualities appropriate to young women, I know of
none which is more universally esteemed than modesty. And what has
been, by common consent, so highly esteemed, I cannot find it in my
heart to under-value. Indeed, I do not think it has ever been
over-valued, or that it can be.

I have been somewhat amused--not to say instructed--by the following
remarks on this trait of female character, from the pen of one who is,
not only a philosopher, but a physiologist. [Footnote: Alexander
Walker, the author of several British works connected with the subject
of physical education and physical improvement.] They are not the more
interesting, perhaps, because they are somewhat new; but neither are
they less so. As I have nothing else to say on this topic, which has
not been said a thousand times, I transcribe the more freely, the
thoughts of the author to whom I refer.

"Modesty establishes an equilibrium between the superiority of man and
the delicacy of woman; it enables woman to insure thereby for herself,
a supporter--a defender. And while man thus barters his protection for
love, woman is a match for his power; and the weaker, to a great
extent, governs the stronger."

"It is probable that modesty derives its cause in woman, from a certain
mistrust in her own merit, and from the fear of finding herself below
that very affection which she is capable of exciting, and of which she
is the object. ... Modesty compels her love to assume that form by
which nature has taught her so universally to express it--that of
gratitude, friendship, &c. ... Modesty is a means of attraction with
which nature inspires all females."

Under this head I will just add, that since by modesty the weaker
govern the stronger, it is of immense importance that woman should know
the true secret of maintaining her power and also by what means she is
likely to jeopardize that power. And without undertaking to determine
what shall be the precise rules of female action, and the precise
limits of the sphere within which the Author of her nature designed she
should move, is it not worth the serious inquiry, whether she does not,
as a general fact, lose influence the moment she departs widely from
the province which God in nature seems to have allotted her; when, like
a Woolstoncroft, or a Wright, or others still of less painful
notoriety, she mounts the rostrum, and becomes the centre of gaping,
perhaps admiring thousands of the other sex, as well as of her own. So
did not the excellent women of Galilee, eighteen hundred years ago;
although they were engaged, heart and hand, in a cause than which none
could be more glorious, or afford a greater triumph, especially to
their own sex. They probably knew too well their power, to endanger it
thus in the general scale; or if not, they probably yielded to the
impulses of a spirit which could direct them in a path more congenial
to their own nature, as well as on the whole more conducive to their
own emancipation, elevation and perfection.

DIFFIDENCE.--This trait, though nearly related to modesty, is far from
being the same thing, its character having been more frequently brought
in question than that of modesty. And yet it seems to me equally
valuable. It gilds what modesty graces; and polishes what modesty
improves.

Let not the reader confound modesty and bashfulness; for they are by no
means the same thing. Modesty is as much opposed to impudence as any
thing can be; and yet it is certain that impudence is often conjoined
with bashfulness. Not so often, to be sure, in the female sex, as in
our own; and yet such a phenomenon is occasionally witnessed, even in
woman.

Bashfulness is usually the result of too low an estimate of ourselves;
whereas, true diffidence only leads us to value ourselves according to
our real worth. Diffidence makes us humble, but bashfulness sometimes
makes us mean; at least, there is danger of it. It is, at all events,
of doubtful utility; and though I would not denounce or condemn it, I
would urge the young to endeavor to rise far above it.

But I repeat it--I would endeavor to cultivate and encourage every
thing which belongs to true diffidence. It will assist modesty in
performing her angelic office; and the influence of both, united, may
save from many a pang in this world, and perhaps prove a means, under
God, of preventing the sentence of condemnation in the world to come.

COURAGE.--By courage I do not mean that trait for which man is
constitutionally as much distinguished, as woman is for the want of it
I mean not a courage to meet and surmount physical difficulties, and
encounter outward and physical dangers. I mean, on the contrary, that
moral courage which is neither confined to sex nor condition.

Not that physical courage is to be despised, even by females. On the
contrary, I think it is a trait of character which is quite too much
neglected in female education. It is not only lamentable, but pitiable,
to see a female of twenty, thirty, or fifty years of age, shrinking at
the sight of a spider, or a toad, even when there is not the smallest
prospect of its coming within three yards of her. Nor is it as it
should be, when a young woman, already eighteen or twenty years of age,
has such a dread of pigs and cows, as to scream aloud at the sight of
one in a field, so well enclosed that it is not possible her safety
could be endangered were the animal ever so malicious. Such
unreasonable and foolish fears ought by no means to be encouraged; on
the contrary, she who finds herself a slave to them, ought to suppress
them as fast as possible.

This is, indeed, an important but much neglected part of female
education; and she who is a sufferer therefrom, will do well to derive
a hint from these pages. The unreasonable fears of which I speak, are
by no means confined to the sight of toads, or spiders, or pigs, or
cows. We find them more or less frequently, and in some form or other,
in nearly every family. Some are unreasonably afraid of dogs and
horses; others, of cats or snakes; others, again, of the dark, or of
being alone by night or by day.

Let me not be understood as saying that no tears are to be indulged, in
regard to any of these things; it is only an unreasonable and foolish
degree of fear, that should be guarded against. A cow or a horse
feeding quietly in a pasture, and separated from you by a stout fence,
which no animal in any ordinary circumstances is wont to leap, is not a
proper object of fear with a rational person over twelve years of age.
If a cow or horse is running at large in the highway, and appears
fearless of man, or furious, or if mad dogs are about, enough of fear
may reasonably be indulged to keep you from the streets, and confine
you to your home, unless you have suitable protection.

But as I have already said, it is _moral_ courage that I would inspire
in the young woman. She has patience, and perseverance, and
fortitude--why then may she not add to these, moral courage? What man
has done, man may do--has been a thousand times said; and the remark is
not less applicable to woman than to man. What woman has done, woman
may do. But woman, in numerous instances, has possessed moral courage.
She has been known, more than once, to "face a frowning world," or to
oppose some of its tyrant fashions. I could mention more than one who
has thus evinced true moral courage, and set her sex a glorious
example, which not a few of my readers might do well to follow.

Let woman dare to do right--whether fashionable or unfashionable. Let
her dare to do so in the smaller no less than in the larger matters of
life. Let her dare to obey God, and the laws of God, both natural and
revealed--both within and around her--rather than the laws of any man
or set of men. Let her do this, and she will evince true moral courage;
a courage as far surpassing the highest efforts of physical courage of
prowess, as right surpasses might; virtue, vice; or purity, impurity.

VIGILANCE.--The young woman who truly understands and practises the art
of self-government, will not only train herself to be at once cheerful,
discreet, modest, diffident and courageous; she will also be vigilant.
The largest ship may be sunk by a very small leak; and in like manner,
may the brightest and noblest character lose its lustre, unless the
possessor is ever on the watch. Let not the most perfect individual on
earth say, in the plenitude of his own power, and in the height of his
own assurance--"My mountain stands strong. I shall never be moved."
Such assurances of self-government and self-possession may be
proper--of course are so--in Him who is in his own nature perfect and
immutable--infinitely and eternally so; but not in a frail, mutable,
created man or woman--above all, in the young and inexperienced.

Pardon me, then, youthful reader, when I repeat the Scripture
cautions--"Be vigilant;" and "Let him who thinketh he standeth, take
heed lest he fall." It is easier to maintain the measure of
self-government we have already attained, and even to add to it, than
to recover what we have once lost.

THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS.--On this account, set a guard over the very
thoughts of your hearts. All sin begins in the desires of the heart and
the affections of the soul. There, in the deep recesses of the man, it
germinates. Let every imagination, then, which exalts itself unduly, be
brought low; and let the stream of thought and feeling be pure, and
perfect, and holy. Acquire the exceedingly important habit of confining
your thoughts and desires to those subjects which your judgment tells
you are lawful and proper--and which are not only lawful and proper in
general, but which are so at particular times and places. The wise man
says there is a time and season for every thing; and more than
intimates, that it is wisdom to confine every thing--thoughts and
feelings, no less than words and actions--to their own place and time,
respectively.

But to learn to think with _order,_ is one exceedingly important item
in the art of _governing_ our thoughts. Half the thought in the world
is of a mere random character. Men are but half men who have not yet
attained to the government of their thoughts and feelings.

THE AFFECTIONS.--Even these, as I have already said, can be controlled.
Were it not so, what meaning would there be in the gospel commands--so
incessantly repeated by the divine Author of the gospel--to love our
_enemies?_ On this subject--the regulation, and if I may so say, the
application of the affections--I intend to dwell at greater length
hereafter.

THE TEMPER.--Nothing is more unpleasant--slovenliness, perhaps,
excepted--than a bad temper. I beseech every one who is so unhappy as
to possess such a temper, to pay particular attention to what I am
about to say, on this interesting and important topic.

Some young women seem entirely to overlook the consequences of an ill
temper. These are numerous--too numerous to be mentioned in a single
chapter. I shall only say here, that such a temper is no less
destructive--in a slow way--to the health of the body, than it is to
the mental faculties and the affections.

Some suppose their ill temper to be constitutional, and this serves
them as an apology for neglecting to govern it. They seem to regard it
as so wrought into their very structure, that it will hardly be
possible ever to eradicate it. They are condemned by inheritance, as
they appear to suppose, to a perpetual war within--in which the most
they can hope for is an occasional victory.

Now let me tell every young woman who has imbibed this erroneous and
dangerous notion, that God has never suffered the command of her temper
to be placed beyond her reach. She may acquire the most perfect
self-command, even in this respect, if she will. Not in a moment, nor
in a day, it is true. The work may be the labor of months, or of years.
Still, the battle can be won: a permanent and final victory can be
achieved.

The very general idea, that single persons somewhat advanced in life,
especially females, become habitually impatient or ill tempered, has
too much truth for its foundation, though it is by no means universally
true. Nor is it ever necessary that it should be so, as I have
endeavored to show elsewhere.

I wish every young person could be induced to study deeply the causes
which operate on mankind to originate or perpetuate a bad temper. They
are numerous--exceedingly so. It is not necessary to charge much upon
our ancestors. The causes may much oftener be found within our own
minds and bodies, would we but look for them there. We harbor or
perhaps indulge a thousand unpleasant feelings from day to day, not
seeming to know, or at least to realize, that as small streams form
larger ones, so these first risings of anger lead to its more
out-breaking forms.

Not a few of the instances of irritability, fretfulness, impatience and
melancholy, have their origin in physical causes--in errors in regard
to exercise, sleep, air, temperature, dress, eating, drinking, &c.; and
some have their origin in mistakes about the theory or the practice of
religion. Some originate, too, in disappointed love. In short, their
sources are well nigh endless.

THE APPETITES AND PASSIONS.--It is in vain, or almost in vain, to hope
for any radical improvement in our physical, intellectual or moral
condition, except in proportion as the body and the bodily appetites
are kept in proper subjection to right reason and religion.

Here I must again urge upon every young woman the duty of studying the
laws of health, and especially those of temperance. The knowledge thus
to be obtained, would be of exceeding great value to her in the
government of her passions and appetites.

Prof. Mussey, recently of Dartmouth College, in New Hampshire, relates,
that a teacher in Boston, whose general course of discipline was quite
mild, was sometimes so much affected in his temper by high-seasoned or
over-stimulating dinners, as to be petulant and passionate, even to
blows, immediately afterward.

Now, whether this was often the case with the individual in question, I
cannot say. This, however, I may affirm with the utmost safety and
confidence--that many an individual who finds her passions or her
appetites more than usually troublesome or rebellious, would do well to
look for the cause in the bad air which she breathes, the bad food or
drinks she uses, or in something else in herself or in her habits which
might have been prevented.

Sometimes tea or coffee, notwithstanding their first effects to
enliven, produce the results I have mentioned, as their secondary
effects. Sometimes a hearty dinner of flesh meat, or a more moderate
one, with bad accompaniments, or with improper seasonings, is the cause
of trouble. Sometimes the cause is something either quite indigestible,
or difficult of digestion, whether it be animal or vegetable. And,
lastly, but yet most frequently of all, it may be excess of quantity,
or the bad cooking of substances naturally wholesome and digestible.

I press this part of my subject upon the consideration of young women,
because it concerns not them alone, but a host of others. No one liveth
to himself, says an apostle; and the remark is quite as important in
its application to the young woman, as to any other individual.

One reason why I urge it is, because we are almost universally referred
to moral means and moral considerations alone, in order to keep in
subjection the body--its passions and appetites--and seldom, if ever,
to a proper attention to our food or our drink, our air, our exercise,
or our sleep. Nay, the hopes of the young, in regard to keeping the
body in subjection, are sometimes completely paralyzed by the grave
assertion, that the strength of our passions and appetites is
constitutional--as much our inheritance, as the color of our eyes, or
the contour of our physiognomies, and almost equally unalterable.

Now I would encourage no young woman to expect too much of "temperance
in all things," without the co-operation of the moral powers, and
especially of the will. But I would encourage her to strict temperance
for her own sake, and that of others. I would say to her once more,
that in proportion to her obedience to the laws of health, in regard to
air, exercise, sleep, temperature, study, food, drink, clothing, &c.,
&c., will be her ability to govern herself according to right, and
reason, and the commands of the Creator. The simpler her diet, for
example, and the more free it is from extraneous things--as fat,
condiments, &c.--the easier will it be to keep herself in proper
subjection to herself--the body to the immortal spirit.

One of the most powerful and ever active causes of that slavery of the
soul to the body, which every person of sense must perceive and
deplore, is our unnatural and artificial cookery. Had it been the aim
of all the cookery in the world, to make it as bad as possible for the
health of body and soul, I know not that things could have been worse
than they are now. Very few things, indeed, are made more palatable,
more digestible, or more nutritious by it--the legitimate and only ends
of all the efforts of our fashionable cookery. On the contrary, they
are made, almost universally, a great deal worse for us.

Let the young woman who would serve God in her day and generation, by
doing good in the reformation, elevation, and eternal progress of
herself and those around her, not only study deeply the laws of health
and life, but let her tax her powers of reasoning and invention, to see
if it is not possible to remove the cause of so much mischief from our
parlors, our sleeping-rooms, our kitchens, and our tables. Much must be
done, in this respect, before the world can become what it ought to be;
and woman must lead the way--woman of some future generation, if not of
the present.




CHAPTER VIII.

SELF-COMMAND.


Presence of mind. Examples. Napoleon. Female example. Mrs. Merrill. Use
of the anecdote. Self-command to be cultivated. In what manner  Consult
the experience of others. Consult your own reason and good sense. Daily
practice in the art of self-command.


I was, at first, disposed to call this chapter Presence of Mind; but
for various reasons, I have chosen to call it by another name--that of
Self-Command.

To acquire the art of properly commanding ourselves, in all
circumstances--especially in the most trying emergencies, and at a
moment of danger, when not a minute, perhaps not a second, should be
lost--is as difficult as it is important to every person; and to none
perhaps more so, than to young women. Not that their trials of this
sort will be more frequent than those of other people; but because the
usual course of their education is such as to prepare them but poorly
to meet those which fall to their lot.

It is said that Napoleon was greatly distinguished for the trait of
character of which I am now speaking. But there are also numerous.
examples of self-command in females on record. I will relate one.

Some thirty or forty years ago, when the Indians had not yet done
making depredations on the inhabitants of our then frontier states,
Kentucky and Ohio, a band of these savage men came to the door of a
house in Nelson county, Ky., and having shot down the father of the
little family within, who had incautiously opened the door, they
attempted to rush in and put to death the defenceless and unoffending
mother and her children. But Mrs. Merrill--for that was the name of the
heroic woman--had much of that self-command, or presence of mind, which
was now so needful. She drew her wounded husband into the house, closed
the door and barred it as quickly as possible, so that the Indians
could not enter at once, and then proceeded to the defence of "her
castle," and all those in it whom she held dear.

The Indians had soon hewed away a part of the door, so that they could
force themselves in, one by one, but not very rapidly. This slow mode
of entrance gave time to Mrs. M. to despatch them with an axe, and drag
them in; so that before those without were aware of the fate of those
inside, she had, with a little assistance from her husband, formed
quite a pile of dead bodies within and around the door; and even the
little children, half dead though they at first were with fear, had
gradually begun to recover from their fright.

The Indians, finding their party so rapidly disappearing, at length
began to suspect what was their fate, and accordingly gave up their
efforts in that direction. They now attempted to descend into the house
by way of the chimney. The united wisdom and presence of mind of the
family was again put in requisition, and they emptied upon the fire the
contents of a feather bed, which brought down, half smothered, those
Indians that were in the chimney, who were also soon and easily
despatched. The remainder of the party, now very much reduced in
numbers, became quite discouraged, and concluded it was best to retire.

I have not related this story because I suppose any of my readers will
ever be tried in this particular manner. Many of them, however, may be
placed in circumstances exceedingly trying; and their lives and those
of others may depend on a little presence of mind.

Suppose, now, that Mrs. M., instead of dragging her wounded husband
into the house and fastening the door, had stood still and screamed; or
suppose she had fainted, or run away; what would have been the result?
We do not know, it is true; but we know enough of the Indian mode of
warfare to see that no condition could well be more perilous.

It cannot be denied that the large share of nervous sensibility which
is allotted to the female constitution, peculiarly unfits woman for
scenes of blood, like that to which I have alluded. And yet we see what
can be done, as a last resort. [Footnote: Some persons object to the
detail or such a scene of murder as this, even as an illustration of an
important principle. They dislike to present such things to the
youthful mind; and so do I. But it should be remembered that this book
is not for mere children, but rather for young women; and is therefore
less objectionable than if it were written for persons much younger.]

But if most females were fitted for trying emergencies, as I doubt not
they could be, how much better they could meet the more common
accidents and dangers to which human existence is daily more or less
liable. And ought they not to be thus fitted?

Do you ask how item be done? This is precisely the question I should
expect would be asked by those who have a strong desire for
improvement. It is a work that is at present chiefly left undone, both
by parents and teachers, and yet hundreds of lives are lost every year
for the want of it; and hundreds of others are likely to be lost in the
same way every year for many years to come, unless the work is taken up
as a work of importance, and studied with as much zeal as grammar, or
geography, or botany, or mathematics.

It is a most pitiable sight to see a young woman, twelve, fifteen, or
it may be eighteen years of age, left to take care of a babe, suffer
its clothes to get on fire by some accident, and then, without the
least particle of self-command, only jump up and down and scream, till
the child is burnt to death; or what perhaps is still worse, rush out
for relief, leaving the door wide open to let through a current of air
to hasten the work of destruction.

Equally distressing and pitiable is it, to see females, young or old,
losing all presence of mind the moment a horse takes fright, or a gale
of wind capsizes the vessel in which they are travelling, and by their
erratic movements, depriving themselves of the only opportunity which
remains to them, of saving themselves or of assisting to save others.

But the question recurs--How can these evils be prevented? In what way
can our young women be taught--or in what way can they be induced to
teach themselves--the important art of commanding themselves, on all
occasions, and in all emergencies?

An aged but excellent minister of the gospel with whom I had the honor
and the pleasure of being intimately acquainted, once said, that the
only way of being prepared for the sudden accidents of life--by being
able to keep cool and possess our souls in peace--was to think on the
subject often, and consider what we would do, should such and such
accidents occur.

Thus we should consider often what we ought to do, if a horse in a
carriage should run away with us; if we should awake and find the house
on fire over our heads--what to be done, if we were in this room or in
that, &c.; if our clothes should take fire; if we should be burnt or
scalded--what to be done, if scalded with water, and what, if with
milk, oil, or any other substance; [Footnote: A very small portion of
chemical knowledge is sufficient to teach any person that the falling
of a quantity of boiling oil or fat on any part of the body, will cause
a deeper and more dangerous burn, than the same quantity of boiling
water applied in the same manner; and consequently, will require very
different treatment. Water boils at 212 degrees of Fahrenheit; oil at
about 600.--I have entered minutely into this subject in my work
entitled "The Mother in her Family" chapters xxiv. xxv. and xxvi] if a
child should fall into a well, be kicked by a horse, be seized by
convulsions, or break or dislocate a limb, &c.

It will be asked, I know, of what avail it is to think over and over
what should be done, without the instructions, either of experience or
science. But we can have these instructions, to some extent, whenever
we seek after them. The great trouble is, we are not in the habit of
seeking for them; and what we do not seek, we rarely, if ever, find.

There are around every young woman, those whose judgment is worth
something in this matter. It is not always the old--though it is more
generally such. There are those who live in the world almost half a
century without learning any thing; and there are also those who become
wise in a quarter of a century. The wise, whatever may be their age,
are the persons for you to consult; and the older such persons are, the
better--because the greater is likely to be their wisdom. The truly
wise, are always growing wiser; it is the fool alone who remains
stationary. Wise and observing friends will probably tell you--or at
least relate anecdotes to you, from which you may gather the
conclusion--that when the clothes of a child have caught fire, you may
often smother the flame by wrapping him instantly in a thick woollen
blanket:--that it is seldom entirely safe to open the doors into an
adjoining room--at least without great caution--when the house which we
are in is discovered to be on fire; but the best way, as a general
rule, is, to escape by the scuttle, if there be one, or by a ladder, or
by letting ourselves down to the ground, if the distance is not too
great, through the windows. This last is often the best way, though not
always the most expeditious one. Many sleep with a rope in their
bed-rooms to tie to the bed-post, as a means of letting themselves
down, should there be occasion; while others rely on the
bed-clothes--to make a rope of them by tying several articles together.

But it was no part of my purpose, in this work, to direct to the
appropriate methods of saving ourselves or our friends from harm, in
case of accidents or emergencies; but only to point to the subject, and
leave the reader to pursue it. The intelligent young woman who sets
about gaining the habit of self-command, will not only consult the
experience of others, but observe, and reflect, and reason on the case,
herself. She will often originate plans and means of escape, in places
and, circumstances of danger, which she would not gain from others in a
hundred or a thousand years.

There is one other means of improvement in the art of self-command, on
which I do not know that any writer on the subject has dwelt with much
earnestness. And yet it is as plain and simple as can be. It is to make
the most of every little accident or emergency that actually overtakes
or surprises us. I know from personal experience, that a great deal may
be done in this way. There are those who, though they were formerly
frightened half out of their senses, at the sudden sight of a harmless
snake, have brought themselves, by dint of long effort, to so much
presence of mind, as only to start a little at first--and to be as
calm, and composed, and self-possessed, in a few seconds afterward, as
if nothing had happened. And the same presence of mind may be obtained
in other surprises or emergencies. Besides, she who is learning to
command herself at sight of a snake or a dog; is at the same time
acquiring the power to command herself in any other circumstances where
self-command may be necessary.

I wish the principle indicated by the last statement were more
generally perceived. I wish it were distinctly understood, that what we
want is, to gain the habit of self-command in all circumstances, rather
than to be able to work ourselves up to a proper state of feeling in
particular cases; and that this habit is to be acquired by frequent
familiar conversation on the subject, and by daily practice in the
continually recurring small matters of life. It is, indeed, in
governing ourselves in these small matters--which recur so frequently,
and are regarded as so trifling as to have not only no moral character
in themselves, but no influence in the formation of character--that the
art to which I am now directing your attention, is to be chiefly
acquired. They who defer the work till some larger or more striking
emergency arrives, will not be likely to make much progress; for they
begin at the wrong end of the matter. They begin exactly where they
ought to end.




CHAPTER IX.

DECISION OF CHARACTER.


Decision of character as important to young women as to others. Why it
is so. Illustration of the subject by a Scripture anecdote. Misery and
danger of indecision. How to reform. Perseverance. Errors of modern
education.


This trait of character has been recommended to young men too
exclusively. I know of no reason why it is not equally important to
young women, and equally becoming the sex in general. One thing, at any
rate, I do know; which is, that thousands of young women--and the world
through their imperfection--suffer, in no trifling degree, from the
want of this virtue.

I call it a _virtue._ What is there that produces more evil--directly
or indirectly--than the want of power, when occasion requires it, to
say YES, or NO? As long as with half the human race--and the more
influential half, too-_no_ does not mean _no,_ and _yes_ does not mean
_yes,_ there will be a vast amount of vice, and crime, and suffering in
the world, as the natural consequence. And is not that which is the
cause of so much evil, nearly akin to vice? And is any thing more
entitled to the name of virtue, than its opposite?

Let me illustrate my meaning by a Scripture example. When Balak, the
king of Moab, undertook to extort a curse upon Israel, from Balaam, the
latter did not say _no_; but only said, the Lord would not permit him
to do what was required. He left neither to Balak nor to his
messengers, any reason to conclude that his virtue was invulnerable. On
the contrary, as the event plainly shows, his answer was just such a
one as encouraged them to prosecute their attempts to seduce him.

Now it is precisely this sort of refusal, direct or implied, in a
thousand cases which might be named, which brings down evil, not only
upon those who make it, but upon others. They mean _no_, perhaps; and
yet it is not certain that the decision is--like the laws of the Medea
and Persians--irrevocable. Something in the tone, or manner, or both
combined, leaves room to hope for success in time to come. "The woman
who deliberates, is lost," we are told: and is it not so? Do not many
who say _no_ with hesitancy, still retain the power and the disposition
to deliberate? And is it not so understood?

It is--I repeat it--a great misfortune--a very great one--not to know
how and when to say NO. Indeed, the undecided are more than
unfortunate; they are very unsafe. They who cannot say _no_, are never
their own keepers; they are always, more or less, in the power and at
the command of others. They may form a thousand resolutions a day, to
withstand in the hour of temptation; and yet, if the temptation comes,
and they have not acquired decision of character, it is ten to one but
they will yield to it.

Is it too much to say, that half the world are miserable on this
account,--miserable themselves, and a source of misery to others? Is it
too much to say, that decision of character is more important to young
women than to any other class of persons whatever?

But as it is in every thing or almost every thing else, so it is in
this matter: they who would reform themselves, must begin with the
smaller matters of life. The great trials--those of decision no less
than those of other traits of human character--come but seldom; and
they who allow themselves, habitually, to vacillate, and hesitate, and
remain undecided, in the every-day concerns of life, will inevitably do
so in those larger matters which recur less frequently.

No one will succeed in acquiring true decision of character, without
perseverance. A few feeble efforts, continued a day or two, or a week,
are by no means sufficient to change the character or form the habit.
The efforts must be earnest, energetic, and unremitted; and must be
persevered in through life.

I am not ignorant that many philosophers and physiologists have denied
that woman possesses the power of perseverance in what she undertakes,
in any eminent degree. A British writer, distinguished for his
boldness, if not for his metaphysical acuteness, maintains with much
earnestness, that woman, by her vital organization, is much wanting in
perseverance. This notion may or may not be true. Certain it is,
however, that she has her peculiarities, as well as man his. But
whether she has little or much native power of perseverance in what she
undertakes, is not so important a question, as whether she makes a
proper use of the power she possesses.

             "Who does the best his circumstance allows,
              Does well; acts nobly: angels could no more."

We are required, however, to do that best which "circumstance" does
allow, as much as is the highest seraph; and woman is not the less
bound to persevere in matters where perseverance would become her,
because her native power of perseverance is feeble, if indeed it is so.
On the contrary, this very fact makes the duty of perseverance to the
utmost extent of the means God has put into her hands, the more
urgent--especially as _small powers_ are apt to be overlooked.

There is one habit which should be cultivated, not only for its
usefulness in general, but especially for its value in leading to true
decision of character. I mean, the habit of doing every thing which it
devolves upon us to do at all, precisely _at the time_ when it ought to
be done. Every thing in human character goes to wreck, under the reign
of procrastination, while prompt action gives to all things a
corresponding and proportional life and energy. Above all, every thing
in the shape of decision of character is lost by delay. It should be a
sacred rule with every individual who lives in the world for any higher
purpose than merely to live, never to put off, for a single moment, a
thing which ought to be done immediately--if it be no more than the
cleaning or changing of a garment.

When I see a young woman neglecting, from day to day, her
correspondents--her pile of letters constantly increasing, and her
dread of putting pen and thoughts to paper accumulating as rapidly--I
never fail to conclude, at once, that whatever other excellent
qualities she may possess, she is a stranger to the one in question.
She who cannot make up her mind to answer a letter when she knows it
ought to be answered--and in general a letter ought to be answered soon
after it is received--will not be likely to manifest decision in other
things of still greater importance. The same is true, as I have said
already several times, in regard to indecision in other things of even
less moment than the writing of a letter. It is manifest especially in
regard to the matter of rising in the morning. She who knows it is time
to get up, and yet cannot decide to do so, and consequently lies
yawning a little longer, "and yet a little longer still," can never, I
am bold to say, while this indolence and indecision are indulged, be
decided in any thing else--at least; habitually.

She may, indeed, be so by fits and starts; but the habit will never be
so confirmed as to be regarded as an essential element of her character.

Nearly all the habits of modern female education--I mean the
_fashionable_ education of the family and school--are entirely at war
with the virtue I am endeavoring to inculcate. It would be a miracle,
almost, if a young woman who has been educated in a fashionable family,
under the eye of a fashionable mother, and at a fashionable boarding
school, under the direction of a teacher whose main object is to please
her patrons, should come out to the world, without being quite
destitute of all true decision of character. If it were the leading
object of our boarding schools to form the habit of indecision, they
could not succeed better than many of them now do. They furnish to the
world a set of beings who are any thing but what the world wants, and
who are more likely to do almost any thing else, than to be the means
of reforming it.




CHAPTER X

SELF-DEPENDENCE.


Fashionable education. Why there is so little self-dependence in the
world. Why orphans sometimes make out well in the world. Error
corrected. What young women once were. What they are now. The best
character formed under difficulties. Cause of the present helpless
condition of females. Three or four to get breakfast. Modes of breaking
up these habits. Anecdote of an independent young woman. Appeal to the
reader.


Here, again, our fashionable modes of education are wrong; and here,
too, almost every young woman who is determined on improvement, has a
great work to perform.

It is one of the most difficult things in the world--perhaps it is one
of the impossibles--to bring up children amid comforts and
conveniences, and yet at the same time to cultivate in them the habit
of self-dependence--or, as some would call it, the habit of
independence.

And yet nothing is more true, than that human character has always,
with few if any exceptions, been most fully developed and most
harmoniously and healthfully formed, amid difficulties. Mr. M'Clure,
the distinguished geologist, whose opportunities for observation in the
world have been very great, says that orphans, as a general rule, make
their way best in the world. Without claiming for myself so many years
of observation, by thirty or forty, as this distinguished veteran in
natural science, I should be glad to make one modification of his
conclusion, before adopting it as my own. I would say, that the
misfortune of having no parents at all, is scarcely greater than that
of having over-indulgent ones; and that the number of those who are
spoiled by indulgence, is greater than the number of those who are
spoiled by being made orphans.

It cannot be that an institution ordained by Heaven as one of its first
laws, should so completely fail in accomplishing its design--that of
blessing mankind--as Mr. M'Clure represents. It cannot be that parents,
as a general rule, are a misfortune. Such a belief is greatly erroneous.

The truth is, that when we look about us and see so many spoiled, who
appear to be well bred, our attention is so exclusively directed to
these strange, but, in a dense population, frequently occurring cases,
that we begin, ere long, to fancy the exception to be the general rule.
And again, when we see here and there an orphan--and in a population
like ours, quite a multitude in the aggregate--making her way well in
the world, we are liable to make another wrong conclusion, and to say
that her success belongs to the general rule, when it is only an
exception to it.

Nevertheless--and I have no wish to conceal the fact--it is extremely
difficult, if not dangerous, to attempt to form good and useful
character in the lap of ease and indulgence. There needs privation and
hard struggle, to develope the soul and the body. Even Zion, the city
of our God, is represented in Scripture as recruiting her inhabitants
only by throes and agonies.

Let it not be thought, then, that our young women in New England--a
land of comparative ease, quiet and affluence--can be brought up as
they ought to be, without much pains-taking. A century ago, things
were, in this respect, more favorable. Then there were struggles; and
these were the means of forming a race of men and women, of whom the
world might have been proud. Then the young women knew how to take care
of themselves; and having been taught how to take care of themselves,
they knew how to take care of others.

But "times are altered." Thousands of young women--and the same is true
of young men--are trained from the very cradle, scarcely to know any
thing of want or difficulty. All is comparative ease, and comfort, and
quiet around them; and they are led by ease and indulgence to love to
have it so. They are trained, as I have elsewhere said, to depend on
the world and its inhabitants for their happiness--not to originate
happiness and diffuse it. They are trained, in effect, to believe that
happiness, or blessedness, consists--contrary to the saying of our Lord
and Saviour--in _receiving_; not in _giving_.

The time _was_, I say once more, when most young women, if thrown by
the hard hand of necessity upon their own resources, could yet take
care of themselves. No matter how great their poverty or
affliction--how large or how deep their cup of adversity or trial--they
would, in general, struggle through it, and come out as gold seven
times refined. Mothers left with large families of helpless children,
and with no means of sustaining them but the labor of their own hands,
and daughters left without either parent, would wind their way along in
the world, and the world be both the wiser and the better for their
influence.

Now, on the contrary, mothers and young women left destitute, are apt
to be, of all beings, except the merest infants of the former, the most
helpless.

This applies to even a large portion of what are called the poor. In
reality, however, we have no poor--or next to none. Our very paupers
are comparatively rich. They dress, and eat, and drink, and _dwell_
like princes. How, then, can they be so very poor?

It is true, that nearly all of our young women are trained to something
in the shape of labor. Very few, indeed, are trained to positive
indolence. But what is their labor, generally speaking? A little
sewing, or knitting, or embroidery; or still worse, in circumstances of
poverty or peculiar necessity, a life of spinning, or weaving, or
braiding; or some other mechanical occupation which has no tendency to
prepare them for true self-dependence.

I have said we have little poverty existing among us. Is it not so? Is
not the life of young women in the great mass of our New England
families, very far removed from any feeling of want or suffering?

But though not trained in real indigence, they might be trained to
self-dependence. They might be, and always ought to be, trained to make
their own beds; make and mend their own garments; make bread; and, in
fact, to attend to the whole usual routine of duties involved in the
care of themselves and a family. But is it so? Are not all these things
done, to a vast extent, either by servants, hired girls, or the mother?
And if the mother employs her daughters in assisting her, is it not apt
to be just so far as is _convenient to herself_, and no farther? In
short, who can often find the individual mother or daughter, who
considers hard work, and care, and obstacles, and difficulties--such as
all the world acknowledge are required in order to form good and useful
character--as any thing but task work and drudgery--a curse, and not a
blessing, to mankind?

True it is--and greatly to be lamented--that many of our young women
are not well able, for want of physical vigor and energy, to encounter
poverty, and hardship, and obstacles, and suffering. But this
deteriorated condition of female character in New England, is owing, in
no small degree, to the very kind of education--miseducation,
rather--of which I am now complaining. Would mothers do their
duty--could they do it, I mean, in the midst of abundance--the state of
things would be very much altered for the better.

It is not uncommon in the schools of Europe, especially the female
schools, to assign to each older pupil the care of some younger one,
for whom she is more or less responsible, particularly as to behaviour.
This leads, in no small degree, to self-effort and self-dependence; and
might be practised in families as well as in schools, with equally good
effects.

But there is another course which is better still, in many respects. It
is not unusual in our New England families, where there are several
daughters, when they are employed at all--I mean about household
concerns--to have them all employed at the same thing at once. Thus, if
breakfast is to be prepared, all are to engage in it. One goes this
way, another that, and another that; and it sometimes happens that they
cross each other's path and come into actual conflict. One goes for one
thing, another for another, and so on; and it is not uncommon for two
or three to go for the same article.

That three or four females may thus spend all their time for an hour or
more in getting breakfast, when one alone would do it much more quietly
and a great deal better, and in little more time than is occupied by
the whole of them, is not the worst of the evil. The great trouble is,
that no one is acquiring the habit of self-dependence. On the contrary,
they are acquiring so strong a habit of doing things in company, that
they hardly know how to do them otherwise. True, there is pleasure
connected with this sort of dependence--and most persons are
exceedingly fond of it; but the question is whether it is useful--and
not whether it is or is not pleasurable.

Is it best for young women to become so much accustomed to _assist_,
merely, in cooking, and in performing other household offices, as to
feel, even at thirty years of age, as if they could do nothing without
the aid of others?

I hardly know what a young woman is to do, who finds herself in the
dependent condition of which I have been speaking. The habit is not
very likely to be broken, so long as she remains in the place where it
was formed. I have, however, seen such a habit successfully broken up;
in one instance; and perhaps it may be useful to relate it.

A young friend and neighbor of mine, in a family where there were
several young men of nearly the same age, happening to find out the
evil of doing the smaller work of the morning and evening in this
company manner--that what was "every body's business," in the language
of a common maxim, "was nobody's"--resolved on a change. He accordingly
proposed to his companions to take turns in doing the work. One was to
do it faithfully--the whole of it--for a month; another for the next
month; and so on. The plan succeeded most admirably. Each became
accustomed to a degree of responsibility; and each began to acquire the
habit of doing things independently, without the aid of a dozen others.

Perhaps this method might be generally introduced into families, as it
has already been, in substance, into some of our boarding schools. It
is at least worth while for a young woman who perceives her need of
such an arrangement, to attempt it. To be suddenly required to make a
batch of bread, or wash the garments, or cook the victuals of a
household, and to feel, at twenty years of age, utterly at a loss how
to perform the whole routine of these familiar household duties, must
be both distressing to herself and painful to others.

Of course it is not desirable to see our young women all orphans, and
brought up as domestics, for the sake of having them brought up in such
a way as to be good for something, [Footnote: Nor can I wish to see
young women trained to do the "buying and selling," instead of men, in
order to give energy to their character; although I do not doubt that
such a course is often successful. It is related by Mr. Ennis, a highly
credible traveller that in Bali and Lombok, two islands lying eastward
of Java, the females do all the buying and selling, even to the amount
of thousands of dollars. "This probably gives" he says, "to the whole
race of people a portion of that boldness and energy for which they are
a little distinguished." But then, as he very honestly adds, it gives
the women somewhat of a masculine character--a thing which should not
by any means be encouraged.] instead of being the poor dependent beings
they too commonly are; yet it were greatly to be desired, that without
the disadvantages of orphans at service in families, they could have
the energy and self-dependence of such persons.

Allow me to relate, for your instruction, a few anecdotes respecting an
individual, who was, to all intents and purposes, an orphan, but who
was, nevertheless, more useful in life, and more truly happy, than a
hundred or a thousand of some of those passive mortals who float
through life on the streams of abundance, without feeling the agitation
of tide or current, and only discover the misery of such a course when
they fall into the gulf of insignificance.

This individual had been abandoned by one of her parents very early in
life, and had been also early separated by poverty from the other. She
had lived in various families, and had been compelled to hard labor,
and sometimes to menial services. At length she married a person as
poor as herself, though not so independent. He had been bred in the
midst of ease; and was, consequently, indolent. But she was determined
on "going ahead" in the world; and her ambition at length roused her
husband.

The latter now engaged in hard labor, by the day or the month, among
his neighbors; while the wife took care of the concerns at home. This
continued for fifteen or sixteen years, before their joint labors
procured land enough for the husband to work on, at home. In the mean
time, however, they had a number of children; and the mother's cares
and labors of course increased. For several of the first of these
years, the husband was seldom at home to assist or encourage her, in
the summer, except during the Sabbath and occasionally at evening; so
that though this diminished the labor of cooking, it left her with her
children wholly on her hands, and a great deal of unavoidable labor,
such as washing and ironing. The latter work she did for her husband,
as well as for her children and herself: and it was therefore an item
of considerable moment--especially as she was obliged to bring water
for this and all her domestic purposes in pails, the distance of
twenty-five or thirty rods, a part of the year, and of ten rods or so,
the other part; besides which, she had to pick up much of her wood, for
the six summer months, in the woods nearly a quarter of a mile distant,
carry it home in her arms, and to cut it for the fire-place. Added to
all this, was the labor of _brewing_ once or twice a week; for in those
days, when poverty denied cider to a family, the beer barrel was
regarded as indispensable.

Nor were her domestic concerns, properly so called, her only labors.
She spun and wove cloth for the use of her family, besides weaving for
some of her neighbors. She also spun and wove a great deal of coarse
cloth, at shares; and thus purchased a large part of the smaller
necessaries of the family, and not a little of the clothing.

She continued this course, I say, something like fifteen years. Never,
to my knowledge, unless she was actually sick, did she receive any
assistance in her labors--not so much as a day's work of washing. And
yet under all these disadvantages, she reared--almost without help even
from the children themselves, as the difference between the oldest and
the youngest was only about eight years--a family of four children.

I have sometimes wondered how she accomplished so much, by her own
unaided efforts. But the whole secret lay in her power of
self-dependence. She could do every thing alone. She had been trained
to it. She was truly independent; as much so, perhaps, as a female can
be in this world.

I might have added, that notwithstanding these incessant labors, I have
often known her walk four or five miles to church on the Sabbath, and
home again in the same manner; that she was neat and orderly; and that
she found much time to read and converse with her children, and for
social visiting.

Reader, I do not ask you to imitate this veteran matron; for it would
be too much to ask of any individual in any age, especially the
present. But I ask you, and with great earnestness, to acquire the
power of self-dependence--and to do it immediately. Make it a matter of
conscience. Bear constantly in mind, that whatever _has_ been done,
_may_ be done. Shame on those who, knowing the value of
self-dependence, and having the power to acquire it, pass through life
so shiftless, that they cannot do the least thing without aid--the aid
of a host of relatives or menials. It is quite time that woman should
understand her power and her strength, and govern herself accordingly.
It is quite time for her to stand upright in her native, heaven-born
dignity, and show to the world--and to angels, even, as well as to
men--for what woman was made, and wherein, consists her true excellence.




CHAPTER XI.

REASONING AND ORIGINALITY


Females not expected to be reasoners. Effects of modern education on
the reasoning powers. Education of former days, illustrated by an
anecdote of as octogenarian. Extracts from her correspondence.
Difficulty in getting the ears of mankind. The reasoning powers in man
susceptible of cultivation indefinitely. Reflections on the importance
of maternal effort and female education.


I know not why a young woman should not reason correctly as well as a
young man. And yet I must confess that, some how or other, a masculine
seems to be often attached to the thought of strong reasoning powers in
the female sex. To say of such or such a young woman, She is a bold and
powerful reasoner--would it not be a little uncommon? Would it be
received as a compliment? Would it not be regarded as a little out of
the way--and, to coin a term, as rather unfeminine?

Perhaps the habit of boldly tracing effects up to their causes, and of
reasoning upon them, is a little more uncommon among the young misses
of our boarding schools and our more fashionable families, both of city
and country, than among those of the plainer sort of people. Certain it
is, at all events, that the former would be regarded as reasoning
persons with much more reluctance than the latter. And yet the former
has probably been taught mathematics, and all those sciences which are
supposed to develope and strengthen the mental faculties, and give
energy to the reasoning powers.

For myself, I have many doubts whether we are really--whether the sex
themselves are, I mean--so much the gainers by the superficial
knowledge of modern days, which tends to the exclusion, in the result,
of that good old fashioned education to house-work, which was given by
the mothers of New England, in the days of her primitive beauty and
glory. Then were our young women, for the times, reasoning women; then
were they good for something. A few of those precious relics of a
comparatively golden age, have come down nearly to our own times. I
have even seen several of them since the beginning of the nineteenth
century. There is one of this description, more than eighty years of
age, now living with a son of hers in one of the Middle States. Her
sphere of action, however, in the days of her activity, lay not there,
but on one of those delightful hills which are found at the termination
of the Green Mountain range, in New England. There, in her secluded
country residence, among plain people, and with only plain means, with
her husband absent much of the time, she educated--not instructed,
merely, nor brought up at school, but educated--a large family of
children, most of whom live to bless her memory and the world. So
devoted was this woman to her household duties, and to the right
education of her family, that for eleven of the first and _hardest_
years of her life, she never for once left the hill on which she
dwelt--a mile or so in extent.

And yet this female was a woman of reasoning powers superior to those
of most men. She understood, thoroughly, every ordinary topic of
conversation, and could discuss well any subject which came within her
grasp. She has been for a few years past, one of my most regular and
most valued correspondents; and nothing but her great age and great
reluctance to put pen to paper, would, I presume, prevent her from
writing more frequently than she is accustomed to do. As a specimen of
her style, I venture to insert a paragraph or two from her letters. The
first was written when she was in her eightieth year.

"I am glad to find you in the enjoyment of health--able to be busily
and usefully employed for this and coming generations. I would like, if
it was God's will, to be usefully employed in _such_ ways, too; but
though I am so greatly favored as to be able to _think_ as well as
ever, I cannot work with my wonted facility and despatch. I cannot
'labor with my hands,' so as to have 'to give to him that needeth,'
because my hands are weak and lame. Once I could fill six sheets of
letter paper in a day, without weariness; but now, if I can fill this
sheet, decently, in _two_ days, I am ready to boast of it, as an
achievement. When I look back and see my former activity, I wonder if
that _was myself_, and am almost ready to doubt my identity. But every
thing in its course; first rising into life, then decaying. The world
itself is not to stand forever; and of course the things animate and
inanimate which are upon it, must partake of its transitoriness."

Again, when she was within a few weeks of eighty years of age, (which
was in January, 1838,) she wrote to me in the following vein of
playfulness:

"As I can invent nothing new, I must utter such truisms as I have
picked up by the way, in almost eighty years; for you say to me,
_write_--and of course I obey, and scribble on. Now I say to _you_--and
may I say it to Mrs. A. too?--WRITE. Write very sensibly, by the way;
for old as I am, I am a sharp critic. I read in my early days Lord
Kaimes' Elements, and I have been working up these elements ever since;
and if I cannot _invent_, I can understand what is fairly presented to
me: so you will receive this as a caution. But don't be afraid! I'll
tell you another thing, of which perhaps you are not aware: I had
rather have one letter warm from the heart, than a dozen from the head."

"I was delighted to think you were pleased with my philosophy--for I
never dreamed I uttered any. As to my politics, I was pretty well
drilled in the school of Washington, after seeing through the
revolutionary struggle; and that was no mean school, I assure you.
Washington was a statesman! I see but _few_ now; but when I do see one,
I make him my best courtesy. And as to my theology, I learned that from
the pilgrim fathers."

Now whether those of my younger readers of a new generation, who,
perhaps, almost despise both letter writing and reasoning,--whether any
of these, I say, will see either form or comeliness--any thing
inviting--in these paragraphs, I cannot say. But I can tell them, at
once, that _I_ do; and it sometimes seems to me, that no greater human
benefaction could be offered to mankind, than the application of those
principles and methods of female education, in family and school, which
would produce such minds and bodies as those of which we have, in the
case of this aged woman, an example!

Perhaps, however, it is almost useless to hope for better times, at
present, for reasons, among others, which are given in another place by
my aged correspondent. "The mischief now-a-days," she says, "is, that
every one is on a railroad, impelled by steam power, and cannot stop;
so all speak at once, and none hear. What a state is this! But it is
true of the world in general. I see but few who are self-possessed. I
wonder when I see any one who is so; and I wonder if I am so myself."

But we are not only unwilling to stay to hear--we are unwilling to stay
to teach. It would be no hard matter for parents and
teachers--especially by beginning early--to establish in the young of
both sexes, habits of right reasoning. I am afraid, however, that
parents and teachers themselves do not perceive the value of such a
habit, and that they are not likely to do so for some time to come.

All, however, which remains for me to do, I must do. This is, to press
upon the few whose ear I can gain, the importance of this part of
self-education. Do not despise the idea of reasoning on subjects which
come before you; nor think it masculine or old fashioned. Not only
accustom yourselves to reason, but to reason on every thing. There is
almost as great a difference between a young woman who takes all things
upon trust, scarcely knowing that she can use her own powers in the
investigation of truth, and one who has been, like my worthy and
venerable correspondent, in the habit of observing and reasoning
seventy or eighty years, as there is between a Sam Patch and a
Bowditch--or a Hottentot and a Newton. Would that our young women knew
this, and would conduct themselves accordingly!

There is nothing in the wide field of human improvement which better
repays the labor of cultivation, than the reasoning powers. Nor is
there any thing which does more to perfect and adorn the human being.
With the highest and noblest rational powers, the human
family--especially the female part of it--seems to me to accomplish
least happily the great work for which they were created, than any
other earthly existences. The little all of knowledge which pertains to
the lower animals, "flows in at once," says Dr. Young; whereas, "were
man to live coeval with the sun, the patriarch pupil might be learning
still, yet dying, leave his lessons half unlearnt." And yet the former
fill, happily, the sphere which God in nature assigned them; while the
latter, with all his capacities and powers of reason, conscience, &c.,
wanders incessantly from his orbit, and must be a most unsightly
spectacle to God and holy angels, and all other high and noble
intelligences. When will man return to his native sphere, and the moral
and intellectual world move in due harmony and happiness, like the
physical? When will each moral creation of the Divine Architect, move
round its great spiritual centre, with the same beauty, and majesty,
and glory, which is manifest in the motions of the physical world?
Never, I am sure, till mothers and teachers, who are, as it seems, the
authors alike of human happiness and human misery, come up to their
appropriate work; and never will there be such mothers, till young
women are better trained. And the latter will never be better trained,
till the work of education, especially of self-education, is undertaken
with much better views of its objects and ends, and with a thousand
times more earnestness and perseverance, and I might even say
_enthusiasm_, than has as yet been manifested.




CHAPTER XII.

INVENTION.


Why woman has invented so few thing. Abundant room for the exercise of
her inventive powers. Hints. Particular need of a reform in cookery.
Appeal to young women on this subject.


Is it not strange, that in a world where have been sought out--time
immemorial--so many inventions, so few should as yet have been
originated by woman?

What have the inventive powers of woman accomplished, even within what
have been usually regarded as her own precincts? Has she invented many
special improvements in the art of house-keeping? Have the labors of
knitting, sewing, making, mending, washing, cooking, &c., been
materially facilitated, or rendered more effective, by her ingenuity?
Has she done much to advance the important art of bread-making towards
perfection?

Why has she not done more? Is genius confined to our sex? Nay, is there
even no common ingenuity out of the range of our own walks? Has not the
young woman, when she begins the world, the same mental faculties, in
number and kind, with the young man? How happens it, then, that the
world is filled with inventions, and so few of them originated by woman?

There is a wide range for improvement in that department of human labor
which has usually been confined to the female sex--especially in the
department of _infant education_. Nor is there any department in which
invention would tell with so much efficiency in the cause of human
happiness, as in that. Let our young women consider this; and let them
resolve on inventing something in their oven particular sphere, which
shall turn to the general account.

When I speak of the appropriate sphere of woman, and of her taxing her
powers of invention there, I would by no means indulge myself in any
narrow or circumscribed views in regard to her field of operation. I
should have no sort of objection to the application of her inventive
powers to the work of facilitating the usual labors of the other
sex--particularly in the departments of agriculture and horticulture.

But I do not perceive any necessity for this. I believe there is work
enough--profitable and philanthropic work, too--to task woman's powers
of invention for many centuries, without her going out of her
appropriate sphere. In the art of cookery especially--which certainly
has a great deal to do with physical education and physical
improvement--there is great room for the exercise of her inventive
powers. This important art is, as yet, entirely in its infancy; and
where any progress has been made, it has been chiefly in a wrong
direction, and under the guidance of wrong principles. Be it yours,
young women, to give this matter a right direction, and to bring it to
bear as efficiently on the happiness of mankind, as it has hitherto on
their slow destruction.




CHAPTER XIII.

OBSERVATION AND REFLECTION.


Advice of Dr. Dwight. Other counsels to the young. Some persons of both
sexes are always seeing, but never reflecting. An object deserving of
pity. Zimmerman's views. Reading to get rid of reflection. Worse things
still.


"Keep your eyes open," was the reiterated counsel of a distinguished
theologian, of this country--the late Dr. Timothy Dwight--to a young
student of his; and it was, in the main, very wholesome advice. And in
so far as it is wholesome for young men, I do not see but it is equally
so for young women.

"Your countenance open, your thoughts close, you will go safe through
the world"--was the advice of another individual, of less eminence, to
a young friend of his; and did it not savor a little too much of
selfishness, and perhaps of concealment, it would, like the advice of
Dr. Dwight, be worthy of careful consideration. It does not partake
quite enough of the gospel spirit and sentiment--"As a man hath
received, so let him give." It encourages us to get wisdom, but not to
communicate it.

I have said that the advice of Dr. Dwight was, in the main, wholesome.
The only objection that can be made to it is, that it gives no
encouragement to reflection. Some may suppose it to mean, that
observation, or _seeing_, is every thing. Now there are those who
appear to see too much. They _always_ have their eyes open. They are
never satisfied otherwise. They absolutely hate all reflection.

Of this description of persons--I am sorry to say it--our young women
furnish a full proportion. Not a very small number of the female sex
are so educated, that it is quite painful for them to turn the current
of their thoughts inward:--they will do almost any thing in the world,
not absolutely criminal, to prevent it. It cannot, indeed, be quite
said, that they observe too much; but it is perfectly safe to say, that
they see too much. If they should see much less with their eyes, and
the soul were left to its own reflections, the result would be, no
doubt, exceedingly happy. Solitude is as necessary as action; and to
both sexes.

No person is more pitiable than the individual of either sex--and such
individuals are by no means scarce in our own-who cannot be easy unless
perpetually running to see some new sight, or, like the Athenians of
old, to hear or to tell some new thing; who is no where so happy as
when in company, and no where so miserable as when alone.

Zimmerman, in his work on Solitude--a pleasant book, by the way,
notwithstanding its gloomy name--has some very appropriate and useful
remarks on the advantages of being by ourselves a part of the time, as
a means of improvement. Should any of my young readers be sorely
afflicted with the disease I have just mentioned-a dread of themselves,
or of their own thoughts, rather--I beg them to read Zimmerman. But
read him, if you read him at all, very thoroughly.

Some persons read solely to get rid of reflection. Worse than this,
even; some persons read, work and play--and I had almost said, go to
church, and put themselves in the attitude of prayer and praise--to get
rid of themselves and their reflections. Who will show us any good
thing? is their constant cry: not, Who will lead us, by external
agencies, or by any other means, to sound and useful reflection. Who
will show us ourselves? is a cry which, among the young women of New
England, as well as those of most other countries, is too seldom heard.

The best advice I can give to such persons--next to that given in the
Sermon on the Mount, where they are directed to enter into their
closet--is, to read with great care, or rather to study, Watts on the
Improvement of the Mind. That is a work which has probably done as much
good in the way of which I am now speaking, as any book--the Bible
excepted--in the English language.




CHAPTER XIV.

DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.


Universal prevalence of detraction and slander. Proofs Shakspeare.
Burns the poet. Self-knowledge, how much to be desired. Reference to
the work of Mrs. Opie--to our own hearts--to the Bible.


Let it not be supposed, for one moment, that I consider young women as
more generally in the habit of detraction than other people; for I
venture on no comparisons of the kind. All I presume to take for
granted is, that they are often exceedingly faulty in this respect, and
need counsel and caution. Were there any doubts on the latter point,
one would think they might very readily be removed by reading the
excellent work of Amelia Opie, entitled, "Detraction Displayed; or, a
Cure for Scandal."

This detraction or scandal is so common every where in life, that
multitudes are addicted to it without the shadow of a suspicion that
they are so. Thousands and thousands of young women whose hearts would
recoil at the bare recital of deeds of butchery and blood--nay, who
would faint at the sight of the severities, not to say cruelties,
which, under the guise of parental discipline, or on the plea of
authority, are often and hourly inflicted on the bodies of young and
old--who will yet rob and murder their unoffending neighbors. For there
is no little truth in what Shakspeare says so pungently--

     "Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
      'Twas mine, 't is his, it may be slave to thousands:
      But he that filches from me my good name,
      Robs me of that which not enriches him,
      And makes me poor indeed."

Nor is there less of truth in what the evangelist says, that "whoso
hateth his brother" (and does not a slanderer _hate_?) "is a murderer."

I know it may seem harsh to fasten on any class of the community, and
above all, on the young of either sex, the charge of robbery or murder.
But is it not proper that the truth should be told? And if there is
such a propensity in us to competition in its varied forms, that not
only thoughts but words of detraction are, as it were, forever on our
thoughtless tongues and lips, and we will not, though often warned, set
a guard over the latter, is it not right that we should be represented
as the robbers of reputation? And if there is such a disposition to try
to be first in the community, and to compel those around us to take the
second place--the lower seat--as generates envy and hatred--the _seeds_
of murder--is it not right to warn the young of their danger? And when
we find them callous to our representations of the truth--when we find
their hearts almost as unmoved as the firm rocks they tread on,
notwithstanding our most faithful exhibitions of human depravity, as is
evinced by the slander, the detraction and the calumny which every
where prevail, and which many must see, as in a glass, to prevail in
their own bosoms, while yet their very blood recoils at the tales of
imaginary wo from the pen of Bulwer, or some other novelist of kindred
fame--is it not proper to remind people of what the evangelist says of
hatred, that it is murder?

Burns, the poet, sought some power who would bestow on us the gift "to
see ourselves as others see us." Poor Burns! this was as high as he
could be expected to go. But how much more to be desired is it, that we
could see ourselves as _God_ sees us? Not indeed at once, lest the very
sight should sink us, forthwith, into everlasting night; but by
degrees, rather, as we may be able to endure it.

How much to be desired is it, I say, especially by the young, that we
might see how prone we are to enter into competition, particular or
general, with the community; and how apt we are, with almost every
breath, and in almost every conceivable form, to throw the good
character, and merits, and success, even, of others into the shade. How
can those whose young hearts beat high in anticipation of a good name,
even in this world, be willing to jeopardize their character by the
commission of so much meanness!

I need not enter into particulars, especially when the invaluable work
of Mrs. Opie is before the world. Let me refer those who entertain
doubts whether, after all, I am not among the very sort of detractors
whom I am censuring with so much severity--and whether, what I complain
of in the individual, as abusive on here and there a neighbor or
acquaintance, I am not pouring, by wholesale, and with a spirit not a
whit better, upon a whole community,--let me refer all such, I say, to
that invaluable work. Let me also refer them to themselves.

I am sure no one can carefully examine and analyze her own most secret
feelings without discovering in herself the spirit of detraction in
some form or other, if it be only in the form of genteel slander, envy
or discontent. If there be those who do not find it so with themselves,
and who say that however it may be with others, they are not thus
circumstanced or thus guilty, I pity them most sincerely, as grossly
ignorant of themselves. Such persons I have only and lastly to refer to
that volume of Divine Truth, which assures us that the heart is
deceitful above all things and desperately wicked; and which asks, with
the most pertinent significance, not to say eloquence-WHO CAN KNOW IT?




CHAPTER XV.

THE RIGHT USE OF TIME.


Great value of moments. An old maxim. Wasting shreds of time. Time more
valuable than money. What are the most useful charities. Doing good by
proxy. Value of time for reflection. Doing nothing. Rendering an
account of our time at the last tribunal.


On this subject--the right use of time--sermons, not to say volumes,
without number, have been written; and yet it is still true, as an
eminent poet has well said, that the individual "is yet unborn who duly
weighs an hour."

But my business is not so much to dwell at large on the value of time
in its larger divisions, such as days and hours, as to urge, in the
first place, an attention to moments. "Take care of the pence," says an
old but just maxim, "and the pounds will take care of themselves;" and
it is somewhat so in regard to time. Take care of the moments, and the
hours and days will take care of themselves.

Not, indeed, that hours and even days are not wasted, and worse than
wasted; but the great error is, in disregarding the value and slighting
the use of those smaller fragments of which hours, days and years are
made. Show me the individual, young or old, who sets any thing like a
just value on moments of time, and you will show me the person who
values, in a proper manner, its larger divisions.

I have ventured upon this hackneyed subject, because I have often
thought that young women--more, if possible, than most other young
persons--need to be reminded of the unspeakable importance of moments.
It is only a minute or two, many will say, or seem to say; and so they
let time pass unemployed. But these leisure moments are frequently
recurring; and the more they are slighted and wasted, the more they
will be. And what is worse, she who frequently says, It is only a
minute-and who makes this serve as an apology for wasting it--will soon
extend the same apology to much larger portions of time. The current of
human nature is ever downward: let those who love improvement and
desire to be improved, remember it is so; and let them ever be mindful,
in this respect, of their danger.

There are thousands who suffer themselves to waste shreds of time which
might be applied to the attainment of knowledge--valuable knowledge--or
to the work of doing good in a world where so much good needs to be
done, who would not be willing to waste the smallest sum of money. I
would not speak lightly of the habit of wasting money; but it must be
admitted by all, that she who wastes, without remorse of conscience,
her precious moments which might be usefully employed--if not in
action, at least in conversation, or reading, or reflection--and yet
would not, on any account, waste a cent of money, is justly chargeable,
in a moral point of view, with straining out a gnat, and swallowing a
camel.

For it should never be forgotten, that however valuable money may be,
time is much more so. It is much more so, even as a means of doing
good. There are very many persons, it is true, who seem to think
otherwise. They seem not to think that they can do good with any thing
but money.

Let us reflect, however, that no charity is more truly valuable, than
visiting and aiding the sick, encouraging the depressed, instructing
the ignorant, &c. Now is not she who does the latter, more sure of
doing good than she who only gives the former? In the latter case, she
bestows the very thing which is truly needful; in the former case, she
only bestows that which is a means of doing good. These means may or
may not be properly applied; of this the donor cannot be certain. But
when, instead of giving money or doing good by proxy, she does it
herself, the work is done, and done in her own way: and if not done
well, she is responsible. She is not made, in that case, responsible
for her neighbors.

But is _all_ time wasted that is not spent in action, as some of my
remarks might seem to imply? By no means. I have already spoken, in
this chapter, of the use of time for reflection; and in a preceding
one, have dwelt more especially on the value of solitude at certain
seasons. What I mean to urge is, the folly of trifling away time in
absolutely doing nothing. There is a sort of listlessness--or, perhaps,
more properly, reverie--in which many indulge, which is as sinful as it
is unprofitable; and there are modes of thinking and subjects of
thought, which are, to say the least, unworthy of a rational,
intelligent and immortal spirit.

I am not sure that there are not times--very short seasons, I
mean--during our waking hours, even with those who are in tolerable
health, when we best serve God and our fellow men by doing absolutely
nothing at all. I am not sure, I say, that thus may not be the case.
Still, if it is so, we should be exceedingly careful not to run into
excess in this respect--an error which seems to be almost inevitable.
For one who spends too little time in doing nothing, it is believed a
thousand spend too much in this way. And let it never be forgotten,
that not only for every idle word, but for every misspent moment, we
are, according to Scripture, to render an account in the day when God
will judge the secrets of each heart, according to the gospel of our
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

How valuable--how immensely valuable--will a few, only, of those
moments which we now let slip with so much readiness, appear to us in
that great day! What would we not then give for them? Five minutes
here, spent in listlessness, or in doing absolutely nothing; five
there, spent in idle or wicked conversation; and five there, in
unnecessary attentions to our person or dress--how will the ghosts, as
it were, of these departed seasons, haunt and torture us! Though
willing to give worlds to recall them--not only for the sake of our own
souls, but for those of others--thousands of worlds cannot buy them.
No, not one solitary five minutes. Happy is she who "wastes not," that
she may "want not," here or hereafter.




CHAPTER XVI.

LOVE OF DOMESTIC CONCERNS.


Reasons for loving domestic life. 1. Young women should have some
avocation. Labor regarded as drudgery. 2. Domestic employment healthy.
3. It is pleasant. 4. It affords leisure for intellectual improvement.
5. It is favorable to social improvement. 6. It is the employment
assigned them by Divine Providence, and is eminently conducive to moral
improvement. The moral lessons of domestic life. A well ordered home a
miniature of heaven.


I have incidentally made a few remarks on this subject elsewhere; but
its importance demands a further and more attentive consideration.

There are numerous reasons which might be mentioned, why a young woman
ought to cultivate a love of domestic life, and of domestic concerns;
but I shall only advert to a few of them.

1. Every young woman should have some avocation, or calling. The Jews
formerly had a proverb, that whoever of their sons was not bred to a
trade, was bred to the gallows; and both Mohammedans and Pagans have
maxims among them which amount to the same thing. But is that which is
so destructive to the character of young men--I mean the want of proper
employment--entirely harmless to young women? It surely cannot be.

True it is, and deeply to be regretted, that there is a fashionable
feeling abroad, which is the reverse of all this. Both men and women,
in fashionable life, are apt to regard all labor--not only manual, but
mental--as mere drudgery. They will labor, perhaps, if they cannot help
it; but seldom, if they can. Or at least, this seems to be their
feeling when they begin a course of industrious action. Some, it is
confessed, finally become so much accustomed to action, that they
continue it, either as a matter of mere habit, or because its
discontinuance would now render them as miserable as they were in
breaking up their natural indolence, and in forming their present
industrious habits.

2. She should love the concerns and cares of domestic life, because no
ordinary employment contributes more, on the whole, to female health.

I do not mean to say, that there is no other kind of employment which
_could_ be rendered equally healthy with doing house-work; but only
that, as a whole, and especially in the present state of public
sentiment, this is decidedly the best. Perhaps, in some circumstances,
moderate labor--labor proportioned to her strength-in the field, or in
the garden, might be healthier, were she trained to it; but as things
and customs now are, this can hardly be done.

3. The employment is a pleasant one. It has at once all the advantages
of a shelter from the severe cold of the winter, and of seclusion from
the sultry sun of summer, and the storms of winter and summer both.
[Footnote: Perhaps it may be said, that woman actually suffers more
from the extremes of heat and cold, than man, notwithstanding her
seclusion, This may be true; but I still think her constitution is not
quite as liable to _injury_, from the weather, as that of man; besides
which, she is rather less liable to accidents.] And not only is the
house-keeper favored in these respects, but in many others. A pleasant,
well ordered home, is perhaps the most perfect representation of the
felicity of the heaven above, which the earth affords. At any rate, it
is a source of very great happiness; and woman, when she is what she
should be, is thus made a conspicuous agent in communicating that
happiness.

Are not, then, home, and the domestic concerns of home, desirable? Are
they not agreeable? Or if not, should not every young woman strive to
make them so? How then does it happen that an idea of meanness is
attached to them? How does it happen that almost every young woman who
can, gets rid of them--as almost every young man does of farming and
other manual labor.

4. Home affords to young women the means and opportunities of
intellectual improvement. I do not mean to affirm, that the progress
they can make in mere science, amid domestic concerns, will be quite as
great in a given time--say one year--as it might be in many of our best
schools. But I do mean to say, that it might be rapid enough for every
practical purpose. I might say, also, that young women who study a
little every day under the eye of a judicious mother, and teach that
little to their brothers and sisters, will be more truly wise at the
end of their pupilage, than they who only study books in the usual old
fashioned--I might say, rather, new fashioned--manner. It is in these
circumstances more strikingly true than elsewhere, that

                "Teaching, we give; and giving, we retain."

5. But once more. She who is employed in the domestic circle, is more
favorably situated--I mean, if the domestic circle is what it should
be--for social improvement, than she could be elsewhere. She may not,
it is true, hold so much converse on the fashions--or be a means of
inventing, or especially of retailing, so much petty scandal--as in
some other situation, or in other circumstances. Still, the society of
home will be better and more truly refined, than if it were more
hollow, and affected, and insincere--in other words, made up of more
fashionable materials. If to be fashionable is to distort nature as
much as possible--and if the most fashionable society is that which is
thus distorted in the highest degree--then it must be admitted that
home cannot always be the best place for the education of young women.

6. But, lastly, young women should love domestic life, and the care and
society of the young, because it is, without doubt, the intention of
Divine Providence that they should do so; and because home, and the
concerns of home, afford the best opportunities and means of moral
improvement.

The prerogative of woman--the peculiar province which God in nature has
assigned her--has been already alluded to with sufficient distinctness.
Let every reader, then, follow out the hint, and ask herself whether it
is not important that she should love the place and circumstances thus
assigned her; and whether she who hates them, is likely to derive from
them the great moral lessons they are eminently designed to inculcate.

Is it asked what moral lessons, so mightily important, can be learned
in the nursery and in the kitchen? In return, I may ask, what lessons
of instruction are there which may _not,_ be learned there, and what
moral virtues may not there be cultivated? Each family is a world in
miniature; and all the necessary trials of the temper and of the
character, are usually found within its circle.

Are we the slaves of appetite? Here is the place for learning the art
of self-government. Are we fretful? Here we may learn patience: for a
great fund of patience is often demanded; and the more so as we are
apt, here, to be off our guard, and to yield to our unhappy feelings.

There are thousands who succeed very well in governing
themselves--their temper and their passions--while the eye of the world
is upon them, who, nevertheless, fail most culpably in this respect,
when at home, secluded, as they seem to think themselves, from
observation. Hence the importance of great effort to keep ourselves in
subjection in these circumstances; and hence, too, the value of a well
ordered and happy home.

Are we over-fond of excitement? Home is a sufficient cure for this--or
may be made so to those who ardently desire that it should be. Are we
desirous of forming our character upon the model of heaven? We are
assured, from the Author of Holy Writ, that the kingdom of heaven
consists in that simplicity, confidence, faith and love, which
distinguish the child.

In short--to repeat the sentence--there is no place on earth so nearly
resembling the heaven above, as a well ordered and happy family. If
your lot is cast in such a family, young reader, be thankful for the
favor, and strive to make the most of it. Not merely as a preparation
for standing at the head of such a family yourself; not merely as a
preparation for the work of teaching--although for this avocation I
know of nothing better; not merely because it is your duty, and you
feel that you _must_ do it; but because it is for your happiness--yes,
even for your life.

All character is formed in the school of trial; all good or valuable
character, especially. And--I repeat the sentiment--in no place or
department of this school are circumstances so favorable for such a
purpose, as what may, emphatically, be termed the _home department._
The family and the church are God's own institutions. All else, is more
or less of human origin: not, therefore, of necessity, useless--but
more or less imperfect. She who would obey the will of God in forming
herself according to the divine mode, must learn to value those
institutions, in some measure, as they are valued by Him, and love them
with a degree of the same love wherewith He loves them.

It will here be seen that I value domestic avocations so highly--giving
them, as I do, the preference over all other female employments--not as
an end, but as a means. It is because they secure, far better--other
things being alike--the grand result at which every female should
perpetually aim--the attainment of excellence. It is because they
educate us far better, physically, socially and morally--and with
proper pains and right management, they might do so
intellectually--than any other employment, for the great future,
towards which we are every day hastening.

This home school is--after all which has been said of schools and
education--not only the first and best school, especially for females,
but emphatically _the_ school. It is the nursery from which are to be
transplanted, by and by, the plants which are to fill, and beautify,
and perfect--if any perfection in the matter is attained--all our
gardens and fields, and render them the fields and gardens of the Lord.
Ton much has not been--too much cannot be--said, it appears to me, in
favor of this home department of female education--especially as a
means of religious improvement.

Young women thus trained, would not only be most fitly prepared for the
employment which, as a general rule, they are to follow for life, but
for every other employment to which they can, in the good providence of
God, ever be called. No matter what is to be their situation--no matter
even if it is merely mechanical, as in some factory, or as an
amanuensis--this apprenticeship in the family is not only highly
useful, but, as it seems to me, indispensable. Is not mind, and health,
and self-government--yes, and self-knowledge, too--as indispensable to
the individual who is confined to a bench or desk, as to any person who
is more active? Nay, are they not even much more so--since sedentary
employments have, in themselves, as respects mind and character, a
downward, and narrowing, and contracting tendency?




CHAPTER XVII.

FRUGALITY AND ECONOMY.


Economy becoming old fashioned. The Creator's example. Frugality and
economy should be early inculcated. Spending two pence to save one, not
always wrong. Examples of disregarding economy. Wasting small things.
Good habits as well as bad ones, go by companies. This chapter
particularly necessary to the young. Frugality and economy of our
grand-mothers.


Economy is another old fashioned word, which, like the thing for which
it stands, is fast going into disrepute; and in these days, it will
require no little moral courage in him who has any thing of reputation
at stake, to commend it--and above all, to commend it to young women.
What have they to do with economy? thousands might be disposed to ask,
were the subject urged upon their attention.

"Is there not something connected with the idea of economy, which
tends, necessarily, to narrow the mind and contract the heart?" This
question, too, is often asked, even by those whom age and experience
should have taught better things.

I am pained to find the rising generation so prone to discard both
frugality and economy, and to regard them as synonymous with
narrowness, and meanness, and stinginess. There cann

Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/9054