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There is one caution to be observed here, which is, not to read too long or too much at once. Whenever a book, or even a newspaper, begins to be irksome, let it be laid aside for the time. In this way you will return to it, at the next leisure moment, with increased pleasure.
A course not unlike that which I have been describing, faithfully and perseveringly followed, would in nine cases in ten, be successful. Indeed, I never yet knew of a single failure. One great point is, to be thoroughly convinced of its importance. No young man can reasonably expect success, unless he enters upon his work with his whole heart, and pursues it with untiring assiduity.
Of the necessity of improvement, very few young men seem to have doubts. But there is a difficulty which many feel, which it will require no little effort to remove, because it is one of long standing, and wrought into all the arrangements of civilized society. I allude to the prevailing impression that very little can be done to improve the mind beyond a certain age, and the limit is often fixed at eighteen or twenty years. We hear it, indeed, asserted, that nothing can be done after thirty; but the general belief is that most men cannot do much after twenty: or at least that it will cost much harder effort and study.
Now, I would be the last to encourage any young person in wasting, or even undervaluing his early years; for youth is a golden period, and every moment well spent will be to the future what good seed, well planted in its season, is to the husbandman.
The truth is, that what we commonly call a course of education, is only a course which prepares a young man to educate himself. It is giving him the keys of knowledge. But who will sit down contentedly and cease to make effort, the moment he obtains the keys to the most valuable of treasures? It is strange, indeed, that we should so long have talked of finishing an education, when we have only just prepared ourselves to begin it.
If any young man at twenty, twenty-five, or thirty, finds himself ignorant, whether the fault is his own or that of others, let him not for one single moment regard his age as presenting a serious obstacle to improvement. Should these remarks meet the eye of any such individual, let me prevail with him, when I urge him to make an effort. Not a momentary effort, either; let him take time for his experiment. Even Rome was not built in a day; and he who thinks to build up a well regulated and highly enlightened mind in a few weeks, or even months, has yet to learn the depths of his own ignorance.
It would be easy to cite a long list of men who commenced study late in life, and yet finally became eminent; and this, too, with no instructors but themselves and their books. Some have met with signal success, who commenced after forty years of age. Indeed, no reason can be shown, why the mind may not improve as long, at least, as the body. But all experience goes to prove that with those whose habits are judicious, the physical frame does not attain perfection, in every respect, till thirty-five or forty.
It is indeed said that knowledge, if it could be acquired thus late in life, would be easily forgotten. This is true, if it be that kind of knowledge for which we have no immediate use. But if it be of a practical character, it will not fail to be remembered. Franklin was always learning, till death. And what he learned he seldom forgot, because he had an immediate use for it. I have said, it is a great point to be convinced of the importance of knowledge. I might add that it is a point of still greater consequence to feel our own ignorance. 'To know ourselves diseased, (morally) is half our cure.' To know our own ignorance is the first step to knowledge; and other things being alike, our progress in knowledge will generally be in proportion to our sense of the want of it.
The strongest plea which indolence is apt to put in, is, that we have no time for study. Many a young man has had some sense of his own ignorance, and a corresponding thirst for knowledge, but alas! the idea was entertained that he had no time to read—no time to study—no time to think. And resting on this plea as satisfactory, he has gone down to the grave the victim not only of indolence and ignorance, but perhaps of vice;—vice, too, which he might have escaped with a little more general intelligence.
No greater mistake exists than that which so often haunts the human mind, that we cannot find time for things; things, too, which we have previously decided for ourselves that we ought to do. Alfred, king of England, though he performed more business than almost any of his subjects, found time for study. Franklin, in the midst of all his labors, found time to dive into the depths of philosophy, and explore an untrodden path of science. Frederick the Great, with an empire at his direction, in the midst of war, and on the eve of battles, found time to revel in all the charms of philosophy, and to feast himself on the rich viands of intellect. Bonaparte, with Europe at his disposal, with kings at his ante-chamber begging for vacant thrones, and at the head of thousands of men whose destinies were suspended on his arbitrary pleasure, had time to converse with books. Caesar, when he had curbed the spirits of the Roman people, and was thronged with visitors from the remotest kingdoms, found time for intellectual cultivation. The late Dr. Rush, and the still later Dr. Dwight, are eminent instances of what may be done for the cultivation of the mind, in the midst of the greatest pressure of other occupation.
On this point, it may be useful to mention the results of my own observation. At no period of my life am I conscious of having made greater progress than I have sometimes done while laboring in the summer; and almost incessantly too. It is true, I read but little; yet that little was well understood and thoroughly digested. Almost all the knowledge I possess of ancient history was obtained in this way, in one year. Of course, a particular knowledge could not be expected, under such circumstances; but the general impressions and leading facts which were imbibed, will be of very great value to me, as I trust, through life. And I am acquainted with one or two similar instances.
It is true that mechanics and manufacturers, as well as men of most other occupations, find fewer leisure hours than most farmers. The latter class of people are certainly more favorably situated than any other. But it is also true that even the former, almost without exception, can command a small portion of their time every day, for the purposes of mental improvement, if they are determined on it. Few individuals can be found in the community, who have not as much leisure as I had during the summer I have mentioned. The great point is to have the necessary disposition to improve it; and a second point, of no small importance, is to have at hand, proper means of instruction. Of the latter I shall speak presently.
The reason why laboring men make such rapid progress in knowledge, in proportion to the number of hours they devote to study, appears to me obvious. The mental appetite is keen, and they devour with a relish. What little they read and understand, is thought over, and perhaps conversed upon, during the long interval; and becomes truly the property of the reader. Whereas those who make study a business, never possess a healthy appetite for knowledge; they are always cloyed, nothing is well digested; and the result of their continued effort is either a superficial or a distorted view of a great many things, without a thorough or practical understanding of any.
I do not propose, in a work of this kind, to recommend to young men what particular books on any subject they ought to study. First, because it is a matter of less importance than many others, and I cannot find room to treat of every thing.
He who has the determination to make progress, will do so, either with or without books, though these are certainly useful. But an old piece of newspaper, or a straggling leaf from some book, or an inscription on a monument, or the monument itself—and works of nature as well as of art, will be books to him. Secondly, because there is such an extensive range for selection. But, thirdly, because it may often be left to the reader's own taste and discretion. He will probably soon discover whether he is deriving solid or permanent benefit from his studies, and govern himself accordingly. Or if he have a friend at hand, who will be likely to make a judicious selection, with a proper reference to his actual progress and wants, he would do wrong not to avail himself of that friend's opinion.
I will now mention a few of the particular studies to which he who would educate himself for usefulness should direct his attention.
1. GEOGRAPHY.
As it is presumed that every one whom I address reads newspapers more or less, I must be permitted to recommend that you read them with good maps of every quarter of the world before you, and a geography and correct gazetteer at hand. When a place is mentioned, observe its situation on the map, read an account of it in the gazetteer, and a more particular description in the geography. Or if you choose to go through with the article, and get some general notions of the subject, and afterwards go back and read it a second time, in the manner proposed, to this I have no objection.
Let me insist, strongly, on the importance of this method of reading. It may seem slow at first; but believe me, you will be richly repaid in the end. Even in the lyceum, where the subject seems to demand it, and the nature of the case will admit, it ought to be required of lecturers and disputants, to explain every thing in passing, either by reference to books themselves on the spot, or by maps, apparatus, diagrams, &c; with which, it is plain, that every lyceum ought to be furnished. The more intelligent would lose nothing, while the less so, would gain much, by this practice. The expense of these things, at the present time, is so trifling, that no person, or association of persons, whose object is scientific improvement, should, by any means, dispense with them.
No science expands the mind of a young man more, at the same time that it secures his cheerful attention, than geography—I mean if pursued in the foregoing manner. Its use is so obvious that the most stupid cannot fail to see it. Much is said, I know, of differences of taste on this, as well as every other subject; but I can hardly believe that any young person can be entirely without taste for geographical knowledge. It is next to actual travels; and who does not delight in seeing new places and new objects?
2. HISTORY.
Next in order as regards both interest and importance, will be a knowledge of history, with some attention at the same time to chronology. Here, too, the starting point will be the same as in the former case. Some circumstance or event mentioned at the lyceum, or in the newspaper, will excite curiosity, and lead the way to inquiry. I think it well, however, to have but one leading science in view at a time; that is, if geography be the object, let history and almost every thing else be laid aside for that time, in order to secure, and hold fast the geographical information which is needed. After a few weeks or months, should he wish to pursue history, let the student, for some time confine himself chiefly, perhaps exclusively, to that branch.
The natural order of commencing and pursuing this branch without an instructor, and I think in schools also, is the following. For example, you take up a book, or it may be a newspaper, since these are swarming every where at the present time, and read that a person has just deceased, who was at Yorktown, in Virginia, during the whole siege, in the American revolution. I am supposing here that you have already learned where Yorktown is; for geography, to some extent at least, should precede history; but if not, I would let it pass for the moment, since we cannot do every thing at once, and proceed to inquire about the siege, and revolution. If you have any books whatever, on history, within your reach, do not give up the pursuit till you have attained a measure of success. Find out, when the siege in question happened, by whom, and by how many thousand troops it was carried on; and who and how many the besieged were.
He who follows out this plan, will soon find his mind reaching beyond the mere events alluded to in the newspaper, both forward and backward. As in the example already mentioned, for I cannot think of a better;—What were the consequences of this siege?—Did it help to bring about peace, and how soon?—And did the two nations ever engage in war afterward?—If so, how soon, and with what results? What became of the French troops and of the good La Fayette? This would lead to the study of French history for the last forty years. On the other hand, Where had Washington and La Fayette and Cornwallis been employed, previous to the siege of Yorktown? What battles had they fought, and with what success? What led to the quarrel between Great Britain and the United States? &c. Thus we should naturally go backward, step by step, until we should get much of modern history clustered round this single event of the siege of Yorktown. The same course should be pursued in the case of any other event, either ancient or modern. If newspapers are not thus read, they dissipate the mind, and probably do about as much harm as good.
It is deemed disgraceful—and ought to be—for any young man at this day to be ignorant of the geography and history of the country in which he lives. And yet it is no uncommon occurrence. However it argues much against the excellence of our systems of education, that almost every child should be carried apparently through a wide range of science, and over the whole material universe, and yet know nothing, or next to nothing, practically, of his own country.
3. ARITHMETIC.
No young man is excusable who is destitute of a knowledge of Arithmetic. It is probable, however, that no individual will read this book, who has not some knowledge of the fundamental branches; numeration, addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. But with these, every person has the key to a thorough acquaintance with the whole subject, so far as his situation in life requires. To avail himself of these keys to mathematical knowledge, he must pursue a course not unlike that which I have recommended in relation to geography and history. He must seize on every circumstance which occurs in his reading, where reckoning is required, and if possible, stop at once and compute it. Or if not, let the place be marked, and at the first leisure moment, let him turn to it, and make the estimates.
Suppose he reads of a shipwreck. The crew is said to consist of thirty men besides the captain and mate, with three hundred and thirteen passengers, and a company of sixty grenadiers. The captain and mate, and ten of the crew escaped in the long boat. The rest were drowned, except twelve of the grenadiers, who clung to a floating fragment of the wreck till they were taken off by another vessel. Now is there a single person in existence, who would read such an account, without being anxious to know how many persons in the whole were lost? Yet nine readers in ten would not know; and why? Simply because they will not stop to use what little addition and subtraction they possess.
I do not say that, in reading to a company, who did not expect it, a young man would be required to stop and make the computation; but I do say that in all ordinary cases, no person is excusable who omits it, for it is a flagrant wrong to his own mind. Long practice, it is true, will render it unnecessary for an individual to pause, in order to estimate a sum like that abovementioned. Many, indeed most persons who are familiar with figures, might compute these numbers while reading, and without the slightest pause; but it certainly requires some practice. And the most important use of arithmetical studies (except as a discipline to the mind) is to enable us to reckon without slates and pencils. He has but a miserable knowledge of arithmetic, who is no arithmetician without a pen or pencil in his hand. These are but the ladders upon which he should ascend to the science, and not the science itself.
4. CHEMISTRY AND OTHER NATURAL SCIENCES.
If I were to name one branch, as more important to a young man than any other,—next to the merest elements of reading and writing—it would be chemistry. Not a mere smattering of it, however; for this usually does about as much harm as good. But a thorough knowledge of a few of the simple elements of bodies, and some of their most interesting combinations, such as are witnessed every day of our lives, but which, for want of a little knowledge of chemistry, are never understood, would do more to interest a young man in the business in which he may be employed, than almost any thing I could name. For there is hardly a single trade or occupation whatever, that does not embrace a greater or less number of chemical processes. Chemistry is of very high importance even to the gardener and the farmer.
There are several other branches which come under the general head of NATURAL SCIENCE, which I recommend to your attention. Such are BOTANY, or a knowledge of plants; NATURAL HISTORY, or a knowledge of animals; and GEOLOGY, or a general knowledge of the rocks and stones of which the earth on which we live is composed. I do not think these are equally important with the knowledge of chemistry, but they are highly interesting, and by no means without their value.
5. GRAMMAR AND COMPOSITION.
The foundation of a knowledge of Grammar is, in my view, Composition; and composition, whether learned early or late, is best acquired by letter writing. This habit, early commenced, and judiciously but perseveringly followed, will in time, ensure the art not only of composing well, but also grammatically. I know this position is sometimes doubted, but the testimony is so strong, that the point seems to me fully established.
It is related in Ramsay's Life of Washington, that many individuals, who, before the war of the American Revolution, could scarcely write their names, became, in the progress of that war, able to compose letters which were not only intelligible and correct, but which would have done credit to a profound grammarian. The reason of this undoubtedly was, that they were thrown into situations where they were obliged to write much and often, and in such a manner as to be clearly understood. Perhaps the misinterpretation of a single doubtful word or sentence might have been the ruin of an army, or even of the cause. Thus they had a motive to write accurately; and long practice, with a powerful motive before them, rendered them successful.
Nor is it necessary that motives so powerful should always exist, in order to produce this result;—it is sufficient that there be a motive to write well, and to persevere in writing well. I have known several pedlars and traders, whose business led to the same consequences.
6. LETTER WRITING.
But what I have seen most successful, is, the practice of common letter writing, from friend to friend, on any topic which happened to occur, either ordinary, or extraordinary; with the mutual understanding and desire that each should criticise freely on the other's composition. I have known more than one individual, who became a good writer from this practice, with little aid from grammatical rules; and without any direct instruction at all.
These remarks are not made to lessen the value which any young man may have put upon the studies of grammar and composition, as pursued in our schools; but rather to show that a course at school is not absolutely indispensable; and to encourage those who are never likely to enjoy the latter means, to make use of means not yet out of their reach, and which have often been successful. But lest there should be an apparent contradiction in some of my remarks, it will be necessary to say that I think the practice of familiar letter writing from our earliest years, even at school, should, in every instance, have a much more prominent place than is usually assigned it; and the study of books on Grammar and Composition one much less prominent.
7. VOYAGES, TRAVELS, AND BIOGRAPHY.
For mere READING, well selected Voyages and Travels are among the best works for young men; particularly for those who find little taste for reading, and wish to enkindle it; and whose geographical knowledge is deficient.
Well written BIOGRAPHY is next in importance, and usually so in interest; and so improving to the character is this species of composition, that it really ought to be regarded as a separate branch of education, as much as history or geography; and treated accordingly. In the selection of both these species of writing the aid of an intelligent, experienced and judicious friend would be of very great service; and happy is he who has such a treasure at hand.
8. NOVELS.
As to NOVELS it is difficult to say what advice ought to be given. At first view they seem unnecessary, wholly so; and from this single consideration. They interest and improve just in proportion as the fiction they contain is made to resemble reality; and hence it might be inferred, and naturally enough, too, that reality would in all cases be preferable to that which imitates it. But to this it may be replied, that we have few books of narrative and biography, which are written with so much spirit as some works of fiction; and that until those departments are better filled, fiction, properly selected, should be admissible. But if fiction be allowable at all, it is only under the guidance of age and experience;—and here there is even a more pressing need of a friend than in the cases already mentioned.
On the whole, it is believed to be better for young men who have little leisure for reading, and who wish to make the most they can of that little, to abandon novels wholly. If they begin to read them, it is difficult to tell to what an excess they may go; but if they never read one in their whole lives, they will sustain no great loss. Would not the careful study of a single chapter of Watts's Improvement of the Mind, be of more real practical value than the perusal of all that the best novel writers,—Walter Scott not excepted,—have ever written?
9. OF NEWSPAPERS.
Among other means both of mental and moral improvement at the present day, are periodical publications. The multiplicity and cheapness of these sources of knowledge renders them accessible to all classes of the community. And though their influence were to be as evil as the frogs of Egypt we could not escape it.
Doubtless they produce much evil, though their tendency on the whole is believed to be salutary. But wisdom is necessary, in order to derive the greatest amount of benefit from them; and here, perhaps, more than any where else, do the young need the counsels of experience. I am not about to direct what particular newspapers and magazines they ought to read; this is a point which their friends and relatives must assist them in determining. My purpose is simply to point to a few principles which should guide both the young and those who advise them, in making the selection.
1. In the first place, do not seek for your guide a paper which is just commencing its existence, unless you have reason to think the character of its conductors is such as you approve.
2. Avoid, unless your particular occupation requires it, a business paper. Otherwise your head will become so full of 'arrivals' and 'departures,' and 'prices current,' and 'news,' that you will hardly find room for any thing else.
3. Do not take a paper which dwells on nothing but the details of human depravity. It will indeed, for a time, call forth a sensibility to the woes of mankind; but the final result will probably be a stupidity and insensibility to human suffering which you would give much to remove.
4. Avoid those papers which, awed by the cry for short and light articles, have rendered their pages mere columns of insulated facts or useless scraps, or what is still worse, of unnatural and sickening love stories.
Lastly, do not take a paper which sneers at religion. It is quite enough that many periodicals do, in effect, take a course which tends to irreligion, by leaving this great subject wholly out of sight. But when they openly sneer at and ridicule the most sacred things, leave them at once. 'Evil communications corrupt' the best 'manners;' and though the sentiment may not at once be received, I can assure my youthful readers that there are no publications which have more direct effect upon their lives, than these unpretending companions; and perhaps the very reason is because we least suspect them. Against receiving deep or permanent impressions from the Bible, the sermon, or the book of any kind, we are on our watch, but who thinks of having his principles contaminated, or affected much in any way, merely by the newspaper? Yet I am greatly mistaken, if these very monitors do not have more influence, after all, in forming the minds, the manners, and the morals (shall I add, the religious character, even?) of the rising generation, than all the other means which I have mentioned, put together.
How important, in this view, it becomes, that your newspaper reading should be well selected. Let me again repeat the request, that in selecting those papers which sustain an appropriate character, you will seek the advice of those whom you deem most able and judicious; and so far as you think them disinterested, and worthy of your confidence, endeavor to follow it.
Politics. As to the study of politics, in the usual sense of the term, it certainly cannot be advisable. Nothing appears to me more disgusting than to see young men rushing into the field of political warfare, and taking sides as fiercely as if they laid claim to infallibility, where their fathers and grandfathers modestly confess ignorance.
At the same time, in a government like ours, where the highest offices are in the gift of the people, and within the reach of every young man of tolerable capacity, it would be disgraceful not to study the history and constitution of our own country, and closely to watch all legislative movements, at least in the councils of the nation. The time is not far distant, it is hoped, when these will be made every day subjects in our elementary schools; and when no youth will arrive at manhood, as thousands, and, I was going to say, millions now do, without understanding clearly a single article in the Constitution of the United States, or even in that of the State in which he resides: nor even how his native state is represented in Congress.
Again, most young men will probably, sooner or later, vote for rulers in the town, state, and nation to which they belong. Should they vote at random? Or what is little better, take their opinions upon trust? Or shall they examine for themselves; and go to the polls with their eyes open? At a day like the present, nothing appears to me more obvious than that young men ought to understand what they are doing when they concern themselves with public men or public measures.
10. KEEPING A JOURNAL.
I have already spoken of the importance of letter writing. The keeping of a journal is scarcely less so, provided it be done in a proper manner. I have seen journals, however, which, aside from the fact that they improve the handwriting, and encourage method, could have been of very little use. A young agriculturist kept a journal for many years, of which the following is a specimen.
1813.
July 2. Began our haying. Mowed in the forenoon, and raked in the afternoon. Weather good.
3. Continued haying. Mowed. Got in one load. Cloudy.
4. Independence. Went, in the afternoon, to ——.
5. Stormy. Did nothing out of doors.
This method of keeping a journal was continued for many years; and only discontinued, because it was found useless. A better and more useful sort of journal for these four days, would have read something like the following.
1813.
July 2. Our haying season commenced. How fond I am of this employment! How useful an article hay is, too, especially in this climate, during our long and cold winters! We have fine weather to begin with, and I hope it will continue.
I think a very great improvement might be made in our rakes. Why need they be so heavy for light raking? We could take up the heavier ones when it became necessary.
July 3. To-day I have worked rather too hard in order to get in some of our hay, for there is a prospect of rain. I am not quite sure, however, but I hurt myself more by drinking too much cold water than by over-working. Will try to do better to-morrow.
4. Have heard a few cannon fired, and a spouting oration delivered, and seen a few toasts drank; and what does it all amount to? Is this way of keeping the day of independence really useful? I doubt it. Who knows but the value of the wine which has been drank, expended among the poor, would have done more towards real independence, than all this parade?
5. Rainy. Would it not have been better had I staid at home yesterday, while the weather was fair, and gone on with haying? Several acres of father's grass want cutting very much. I am more and more sick of going to independence. If I live till another year, I hope I shall learn to 'make hay while the sun shines.'
I selected a common agricultural employment to illustrate my subject, first, because I suppose a considerable proportion of my readers are farmers, and secondly, because it is an employment which is generally supposed to furnish little or nothing worth recording. The latter, however, is a great mistake. Besides writing down the real incidents that occur, many of which would be interesting, and some of them highly important facts, the thoughts, which the circumstances and incidents of an agricultural life are calculated to elicit, are innumerable. And these should always be put down. They are to the mere detail of facts and occurrences, what leaves and fruit are to the dry trunk and naked limbs of a tree. The above specimen is very dry indeed, being intended only as a hint. Pages, instead of a few lines, might sometimes be written, when our leisure permitted, and thoughts flowed freely.
One useful method of improving the mind, and preparing ourselves for usefulness, would be, to carry a small blank book and pencil in our pockets, and when any interesting fact occurred, embrace the first spare moment to put it down, say on the right hand page; and either then, or at some future time, place on the left hand page, our own reflections about it. Some of the most useful men in the world owe much of their usefulness to a plan like this, promptly and perseveringly followed. Quotations from books or papers might also be preserved in the same manner.[10]
Perhaps it may be thought, at first, that this advice is not in keeping with the caution formerly given, not to read as we travel about; but if you reflect, you will find it otherwise. Reading as we travel, and at meals, and the recording of facts and thoughts which occur, are things as different as can well be conceived. The latter creates and encourages a demand for close observation, the former discourages and even suppresses it.
11. PRESERVATION OF BOOKS AND PAPERS.
Let books be covered as soon as bought. Never use them without clean hands. They show the dirt with extreme readiness, and it is not easily removed. I have seen books in which might be traced the careless thumbs and fingers of the last reader, for half a dozen or a dozen pages in succession.
I have known a gentleman—quite a literary man, too—who, having been careful of his books in his earlier years, and having recently found them occasionally soiled, charged the fault on those who occasionally visited his library. At last he discovered that the coal dust (for he kept a coal fire) settled on his hands, and was rubbed off upon his book leaves by the slight friction of his fingers upon the leaves in reading.
Never wet your finger or thumb in order to turn over leaves. Many respectable people are addicted to this habit, but it is a vulgar one. Besides, it is entirely useless. The same remarks might be applied to the habit of suffering the corners of the leaves to turn up, in 'dog's ears.' Keep every leaf smooth, if you can. Never hold a book very near the fire, nor leave it in the hot sun. It injures its cover materially, and not a few books are in one or both of these ways entirely ruined.
It is a bad practice to spread out a book with the back upwards. It loosens the leaves, and also exposes it in other respects. You will rarely find a place to lay it down which is entirely clean, and the least dust on the leaves, is readily observed.
The plan of turning down a leaf to enable us to remember the place, I never liked. It indulges the memory in laziness. For myself, if I take much interest in a book, I can remember where I left off and turn at once to the place without a mark. If a mark must be used at all, however, a slip of paper, or a piece of tape or ribbon is the best.
When you have done using a book for the time, have a place for it, and put it in its place. How much time and patience might be saved if this rule were universally followed! Many find it the easiest thing in the world to have a place for every book in their library, and to keep it in its place. They can put their hands upon it in the dark, almost as well as in the light.
Never allow yourselves to use books for any other purpose but reading. I have seen people recline after dinner and at other times, with books under their heads for a pillow. Others will use them to cover a tumbler, bowl, or pitcher. Others again will raise the window, and set them under the sash to support it; and next, perhaps, the book is wet by a sudden shower of rain, or knocked out of the window, soiled or otherwise injured, or lost. I have seen people use large books, such as the family-bible, or encyclopedia, to raise a seat, especially for a child at table.
[10] Some persons always read with a pen or pencil in hand, and when a thought occurs, note it in a little book, kept for the purpose.
CHAPTER V.
Social and Moral Improvement.
SECTION I. Of Female Society, in general.
No young man is fully aware how much he is indebted to female influence in forming his character. Happy for him if his mother and sisters were his principal companions in infancy. I do not mean to exclude the society of the father, of course; but the father's avocations usually call him away from home, or at least from the immediate presence of his children, for a very considerable proportion of his time.
It would be easy to show, without the possibility of mistake, that it is those young men who are shut out either by accident or design, from female society, that most despise it. And on this account, I cannot but regret the supposed necessity which prevails of having separate schools for the two sexes; unless it were professional ones—I mean for the study of law, medicine, &c. There is yet too much practical Mohammedanism and Paganism in our manner of educating the young.
If we examine the character and conduct of woman as it now is, and as history shows it to have been in other periods of the world, we shall see that much of the good and evil which has fallen upon mankind has been through her influence. We may see that man has often been influenced directly by the soft warning words, or the still more powerful weapons—tears—of woman, to do that to which whole legions of soldiers never could have driven him.
Now the same influence which is exerted by mothers and wives is also exerted, in a smaller degree, by sisters; and indeed by the female sex generally. When, therefore, I find a young man professing a disregard for their society, or frequenting only the worst part of it, I always expect to find in him a soul which would not hesitate long, in the day of temptation, to stoop to vicious if not base actions. Who would despise the fountain at which he is refreshed daily? Above all, who would willingly contaminate it? But how much better than this is it to show by our language, as well as deeds, that we hold this portion of the world in disdain; and only meet with them, if we meet them at all, to comply with custom, or for purposes still more unworthy; instead of seeking their society as a means of elevating and ennobling the character?
When, therefore, a young man begins to affect the wit, and to utter sarcasms against the female character, it may be set down as a mark, either of a weak head, or a base heart; for it cannot be good sense or gratitude, or justice, or honorable feeling of any kind. There are indeed nations, it is said, where a boy, as soon as he puts off the dress of a child, beats his mother, to show his manhood. These people live in the interior of Africa, and there let them remain. Let us be careful that we do not degrade the sex, in the same manner, by disrespectful language, or actions, or thoughts. We should 'think no evil,' on this subject; for let it never be forgotten, that our own happiness and elevation of character must ever be in exact proportion to that of females. Degrade them, and we degrade ourselves; neglect to raise their moral and intellectual condition as much as possible, and you neglect the readiest and most certain means of promoting, in the end, your own comfort and happiness.
If any of your elder associates defame the sex, you can hardly be mistaken when you suspect them of having vitiated their taste for what is excellent in human character by improper intimacies, or still more abominable vices. The man who says he has never found a virtuous female character, you may rely upon it, cannot himself be virtuous.
In civilized society much of our time must necessarily be spent among females. These associations will have influence upon us. Either they are perpetually improving our character, or, on the other hand, by increasing our disregard or disgust, debasing it. Is it not wisdom, then, to make what we can of the advantages and opportunities which their society affords us?
The very presence of a respectable female will often restrain those from evil whose hearts are full of it. It is not easy to talk or to look obscenely, or even to behave with rudeness and ill manners under such restraint. Who has not seen the jarring and discordant tones of a company of rude men and boys hushed at once by the sudden arrival of a lady of dignified manners and appearance?
The frequent, the habitual society of one whom a youth respects, must have a happy tendency to make him love honorable conduct; and restrain his less honorable feelings. Frequent restraint tends to give the actual mastery; therefore every approach towards this must be of great value. There is a delicacy, too, in female society, which serves well to check the boisterous, to tame the brutal, and to embolden the timid. Whatever be the innate character of a youth, it may be polished, and exalted, by their approbation. He must be unusually hardened that can come from some shameful excess, or in a state of inebriety, into the company of the ladies.
Sometimes a diffident youth has been taken under the protection, if it may be so called, of a considerate and respectable woman. A woman of proper dignity of manners and character, especially with a few years' advantage, can do this without the least injury to herself, and without stepping a hair's breadth beyond the bounds which should surround her sex. Happy is the young man who enjoys a fostering care so important; he may learn the value of the sex; learn to discriminate among them, to esteem many of them, and prize their approbation; and in time, deserve it. It is obvious that the favor of silly, flirting girls, (and there are some such) is not what I am here recommending.
Where the character of such society is pure, where good sense, cultivation, intellect, modesty, and superior age, distinguish the parties, it is no small honor to a young man to enjoy it. Should he be conscious that epithets of a different and of a contrary quality belong to them, it is no honor to him to be their favorite. He must be like them, in some degree, or they would not approve him.
SECTION II. Advice and Friendship of Mothers.
When you seek female society for the sake of improvement, it is proper you should begin where nature begun with you. You have already been encouraged to respect your mother; I go a step farther; and say, Make her your friend. Unless your own misconduct has already been very great, she will not be so far estranged from you, as not to rejoice at the opportunity of bestowing that attention to you which the warmest wishes for your welfare would dictate. If your errors have, on the contrary, created a wide distance between you, endeavor to restore the connection as soon as possible. I do not undervalue a father's counsel and guidance; yet however excellent his judgment may be, your mother's opinion is not only a help to your own; but as a woman's, it has its peculiar character, and may have its appropriate value. Women sometimes see at a glance, what a man must go round through a train of argument to discover. Their tact is delicate, and therefore quicker in operation. Sometimes, it is true, their judgment will not only be prompt, but premature. Your own judgment must assist you here. Do not, however, proudly despise your mother's;—but examine it. It will generally well repay the trouble; and the habit of consulting her will increase habits of consideration, and self command; and promote propriety of conduct.
If a mother be a woman of sense, why should you not profit by her long exercised intelligence? Nay, should she even be deficient in cultivation, or in native talent, yet her experience is something, and her love for you will, in part, make up for such deficiency. It cannot be worthiness to despise, or wisdom to neglect your mother's opinion.
SECTION III. Society of Sisters.
Have you a sister?—Have you several of them? Then you are favorably situated; especially if one of them is older than yourself. She has done playing with dolls, and you with bats and balls. She is more womanly; her carriage becomes dignified. Do not oblige her, by your boyish behavior, to keep you at a distance. Try to deserve the character of her friend. She will sometimes look to you for little services, which require strength and agility; let her look up to you for judgment, steadiness, and counsel too. You may be mutually beneficial. Your affection, and your intertwining interest in each other's welfare, will hereby be much increased.
A sister usually present, is that sort of second conscience, which, like the fairy ring, in an old story, pinches the wearer whenever he is doing any thing amiss. Without occasioning so much awe as a mother, or so much reserve as a stranger, her sex, her affection, and the familiarity between you will form a compound of no small value in itself, and of no small influence, if you duly regard it, upon your growing character. Never for one moment suppose that a good joke at which a sister blushes, or turns pale, or even looks anxious. If you should not at first perceive what there is in it which is amiss, it will be well worth your while to examine all over again. Perhaps a single glance of her eye will explain your inconsiderateness; and as you value consistency and propriety of conduct, let it put you on your guard.
There is a sort of attention due to the sex which is best attained by practising at home. Your mother may sometimes require this attention, your sisters still oftener. Do not require calling, or teasing, or even persuading to go abroad with them when their safety, their comfort, or their respectability require it. It is their due; and stupid or unkind is he who does not esteem it so. In performing this service, you are only paying a respect to yourself. Your sister could, indeed, come home alone, but it would be a sad reflection on you were she obliged to do so. Accustom yourself, then, to wait upon her; it will teach you to wait upon others by and by; and in the meantime, it will give a graceful polish to your character.
It will be well for you, if your sisters have young friends whose acquaintance with them may bring you sometimes into their society. The familiarity allowable with your sisters, though it may well prepare you to show suitable attention to other ladies, yet has its disadvantages. You need sometimes to have those present who may keep you still more upon your guard; and render your manners and attention to them still more respectful.
SECTION IV. General Remarks and Advice.
Never seek, then, to avoid respectable female society. Total privation has its dangers, as well as too great intimacy. One of the bad results of such a privation, is, that you run the risk of becoming attached to unworthy objects because they first fall in your way. Human nature is ever in danger of perversion. Those passions which God has given you for the wisest and noblest purposes may goad you onward, and, if they do not prove the occasion of your destruction in one way, they may in another. If you should be preserved in solitude, you will not be quite safe abroad. Having but a very imperfect conception of the different shades of character among the sex, you will be ready to suppose all are excellent who appear fair and all good who appear gentle.
I have alluded to the dangers of too great intimacy. Nothing here advanced is intended to make you a mere trifler, or to sink the dignity of your own sex. Although you are to respect females because of their sex, yet there are some who bestow upon them a species of attention extremely injurious to themselves, and unpleasant and degrading to all sensible ladies.
There is still another evil sometimes resulting from too great intimacy. It is that you lead the other party to mistake your object. This mistake is easily made. It is not necessary, to this end, that you should make any professions of attachment, in word or deed. Looks, nay even something less than this, though it may be difficult to define it, may indicate that sort of preference for the society of a lady, that has sometimes awakened an attachment in her which you never suspected or intended. Or what is a far less evil, since it falls chiefly on yourself, it may lead her and others to ridicule you for what they suppose to be the result, on your part, of intention.
Let me caution you, then, if you would obey the golden rule of doing to others as you would wish others should do to you, in the same circumstances, and if you value, besides this, your own peace, to beware of injuring those whom you highly esteem, by leading them by words, looks, or actions, to that misapprehension of your meaning which may be the means of planting thorns in their bosoms, if not in your own.
There is another error to which I wish to call your attention, in this place, although it might more properly be placed under the head, Seduction. I allude to the error of too great familiarity with others, after your heart is already pledged to a particular favorite. Here, more, if possible, than in the former case, do you need to set a guard over all your ways, words, and actions; and to resolve, in the strength, and with the aid of Divine grace, that you will never deviate from that rule of conduct toward others,—which Divine Goodness has given, as the grand text to the book of human duty.
The general idea presented in the foregoing sections, of what a woman ought to be, is sufficient to guide you, with a little care in the application. Such as are forward, soon become tedious. Their character is what no man of taste will bear. Some are even anglers, aiming to catch gudgeons by every look; placing themselves in attitudes to allure the vagrant eye. Against such it is quite unnecessary that I should warn you; they usually give you sufficient notice themselves. The trifler can scarcely amuse you for an evening. The company of a lady who has nothing to say but what is commonplace, whose inactive mind never for once stumbles upon an idea of its own, must be dull, as a matter of course. You can learn nothing from her, unless it be the folly of a vacant mind. Come away, lest you catch the same disorder.
The artful and manoeuvring, on the contrary, will, at a glance, penetrate your inmost mind, and become any thing which they perceive will be agreeable to you.
Should your lot be cast where you can enjoy the society of a few intelligent, agreeable, and respectable females, remember to prize the acquisition. If you do not derive immense advantage from it, the fault must be your own. If, in addition to the foregoing qualifications, these female friends happen to have had a judicious and useful, rather than a merely polite education, your advantages are doubly valuable.
The genial influence of such companions must unavoidably be on the side of goodness and propriety. Loveliness of mind will impart that agreeableness of person which recommends to the heart every sentiment, gives weight to every argument, justifies every opinion, and soothes to recollection and recovery those who, were they reproved by any other voice, might have risen to resistance, or sunk into despair. The only necessary caution in the case is, 'Beware of idolatry.' Keep yourself clear from fascination, and call in the aid of your severest judgment to keep your mind true to yourself, and to principle.
SECTION V. Lyceums and other Social Meetings.
The course of my remarks has given occasion, in several instances, to speak of the importance of lyceums as a means of mental and social improvement. It will not be necessary therefore, in this place, to dwell, at length, on their importance. My principal object will be to call your attention to the subject in general, and urge it upon your consideration. I hope no young person who reads these pages, will neglect to avail himself of the advantages which a good lyceum affords; or if there are none of that character within his reach, let him make unremitting efforts till one exists.
Although these institutions are yet in their infancy, and could hardly have been expected to accomplish more within the same period than they have, it is hoped they will not hereafter confine their inquiries so exclusively to matters of mere intellect, as has often been done. There are other subjects nearer home, if I may so say, than these. How strangely do mankind, generally, stretch their thoughts and inquiries abroad to the concerns of other individuals, states and nations, and forget themselves, and the objects and beings near by them, and their mutual relations, connections, and dependencies!
Lyceums, when they shall have obtained a firmer footing among us, may become a most valuable means of enlightening the mass of the community, in regard to the structure and laws of the human body, and its relation to surrounding objects; of discussing the philosophy of dress, and its different materials for different seasons; of food, and drink, and sleep and exercise; of dwellings and other buildings; of amusements and employments;—in short, of the ten thousand little things, as many call them, which go to make up human life, with its enjoyments or miseries. These things have been surprisingly overlooked by most men, for the sake of attending to others, whose bearing on human happiness, if not often questionable, is at least more remote.
In some of our larger cities there are respectable courses of useful lectures established during the months of winter, and sometimes throughout the year. Added to this are reading-rooms, and various sorts of libraries, which are accessible for a small sum, and sometimes for almost nothing. There have been three valuable courses of Franklin Lectures delivered in Boston, during the three last winters, of twenty lectures each, for only fifty cents a course. In most large towns, benevolent and spirited individuals might establish something of the same kind, at least every winter.
SECTION VI. Moral Instruction.
It was not my intention, at first, to say a single word, directly, on the subject of religion, but I should leave this chapter very incomplete indeed, as well as do violence to my own feelings, should I say nothing at all of Bible classes, and other means of religious instruction, with which the age, and especially this part of the country abounds, not only on Sundays, but during the long evenings of leisure which, for a part of the year, many young men enjoy.
Viewed merely as a means of improving the mind, and acquiring much authentic historical information to be found nowhere else, the study of the Bible is a most valuable exercise, and ought to be encouraged. To adults who labor, a walk to church, and prompt attention to the Bible lesson, is happily adapted to the health of the body, no less than to intellectual improvement; and whatever objections might be urged against subjecting infants and young children who attend other schools during the week, to the present routine of Sabbath instruction, I am quite sure that the class of young persons for whom I am writing, would derive the most lasting benefit from studying the Bible.
I have made these remarks on the presumption that they were to derive no moral improvement from Bible instruction. However, I see not how these schools can be long attended by ingenuous minds without inspiring a respect, at the least, for that book which is superior to all other books, and for that religion which it inculcates; which is above all sect, and beyond all price.
SECTION VII. Of Female Society in reference to Marriage.
It is now time to consider the subject of female society in reference to matrimony. I shall find it necessary, however, to make a division of my subject, reserving a more complete view of female qualifications for a succeeding chapter.
Whatever advice may be given to the contrary by friends or foes, it is my opinion that you ought to keep matrimony steadily in view. For this end, were it for no other, you ought to mingle much in society. Never consider yourself complete without this other half of yourself. It is too much the fashion among young men at the present day to make up their minds to dispense with marriage;—an unnatural, and therefore an unwise plan. Much of our character, and most of our comfort and happiness depend upon it. Many have found this out too late; that is, after age and fixed habits had partly disqualified them for this important duty.
All that has been hitherto said of female influence bears upon this point. According to the character of the person you select, in a considerable degree, will be your own. Should a mere face fascinate you to a doll, you will not need much mental energy to please her; and the necessity of exertion on this account being small, your own self will sink, or at least not rise, as it otherwise might do.
But were I personally acquainted with you, and should I perceive an honorable attachment taking possession of your heart, I should regard it as a happy circumstance. Life then has an object. The only thing to be observed is that it be managed with prudence, honor, and good sense.
The case of John Newton is precisely in point. In very early life this man formed a strong attachment to a lady, under circumstances which did not permit him to make it known; which was probably well for both parties. It did not diminish her happiness, so long as she remained in ignorance on the subject; and in scenes of sorrow, suffering, and temptation, the hope of one day obtaining her soothed him, and kept him from performing many dishonorable actions. 'The bare possibility,' he says, 'of seeing her again, was the only obvious means of restraining me from the most horrid designs, against myself and others.'
The wish to marry, if prudently indulged, will lead to honest and persevering exertions to obtain a reasonable income—one which will be satisfactory to the object of your hopes, as well as to her friends. He who is determined on living a single life, very naturally contracts his endeavors to his own narrow personal wants, or else squanders freely, in the belief that he can always procure enough to support himself. Indeed it cannot have escaped even the careless observer that in proportion as an individual relinquishes the idea of matrimony, just in the same proportion do his mind and feelings contract. On the contrary, that hope which aims at a beloved partner—a family—a fireside,—will lead its possessor to activity in all his conduct. It will elicit his talents, and urge them to their full energy, and probably call in the aid of economy; a quality so indispensable to every condition of life. The single consideration, 'What would she think were she now to see me?' called up by the obtrusion of a favorite image,—how often has it stimulated a noble mind and heart to deeds which otherwise had never been performed!
I repeat it, I am aware that this advice is liable to abuse. But what shall be done? Images of some sort will haunt the mind more or less—female influence in some shape or other will operate. Is it not better to give the imagination a virtuous direction than to leave it to range without control, and without end?
I repeat it, nothing is better calculated to preserve a young man from the contamination of low pleasures and pursuits, than frequent intercourse with the more refined and virtuous of the other sex. Besides, without such society his manners can never acquire the true polish of a gentleman,—general character, dignity, and refinement;—nor his mind and heart the truest and noblest sentiments of a man. Make it an object then, I again say, to spend some portion of every week of your life in the company of intelligent and virtuous ladies. At all events, flee solitude, and especially the exclusive society of your own sex. The doctrines even of Zimmerman, the great apostle of solitude, would put to shame many young men, who seldom or never mix in female society.
If you should be so unfortunate as not to have among your acquaintance any ladies whose society would, in these points of view, be profitable to you, do not be in haste to mix with the ignorant and vulgar; but wait patiently till your own industry and good conduct shall give you admission to better circles; and in the meantime cultivate your mind by reading and thinking, so that when you actually gain admission to good society, you may know how to prize and enjoy it. Remember, too, that you are not to be so selfish as to think nothing of contributing to the happiness of others. It is blessed to give as well as to receive.
When you are in the company of ladies, beware of silliness. It is true that they will sooner forgive foolishness than ill manners, but you will, of course, avoid both. I know one young gentleman of great promise, who adopted the opinion that in order to qualify himself for female society, he had only to become as foolish as possible, while in their presence. That young man soon lost the favor of all whose friendship might have operated as a restraint; but unwilling to associate with the despicable, and unable to live in absolute solitude, he chose the bottle for his companion; and made himself, and the few friends he had, miserable.
Nothing, unless it be the coarsest flattery, will give more offence, in the end, than to treat ladies as mere playthings or children. On the other hand, do not become pedantic, and lecture them on difficult subjects. They readily see through all this. Neither is it good manners or policy to talk much of yourself. They can penetrate this also; and they despise the vanity which produces it. In detecting deception, they are often much quicker than we apprehend.
A young gentleman, in one of the New England States, who had assumed the chair of the pedagogue, paid his addresses to the beautiful and sensible daughter of a respectable farmer. One day, as she was present in his school, he read to her a hymn, which he said was from his own pen. Now it was obvious to this lady, and even to some of the pupils, that the hymn was none other than that usually known by the name of the 'Harvest Hymn,' modified by the change of a few words only. How much effect this circumstance might have had I cannot say with certainty; but I know it disgusted one, at least, of the pupils; and I know, too, that his addresses to the lady were soon afterwards discontinued.
A young man who would profit from the society of young ladies, or indeed from any society, must preserve a modest and respectful spirit; must seek to conciliate their good will by quiet and unostentatious attentions, and discover more willingness to avail himself of their stock of information, than to display his own knowledge or abilities.
He should observe, and learn to admire, that purity and ignorance of evil, which is the characteristic of well-educated young ladies, and which, while we are near them, raises us above those sordid and sensual considerations which hold such sway over men, in their intercourse with each other. He should treat them as spirits of a purer sphere, and try to be as innocent, if not as ignorant of evil as they are; remembering that there is no better way of raising himself in the scale of intellectual and moral being. But to whatever degree of intimacy he may arrive, he should never forget those little acts of courtesy and kindness, as well as that respect, and self-denial, which lend a charm to every kind of polite intercourse, and especially to that of which I am now speaking.
Whenever an opportunity occurs, however, it is the duty of a young man to introduce topics of conversation which are decidedly favorable to mental and moral improvement. Should he happen to be attending to the same study, or reading the same book with a female acquaintance, an excellent opportunity will be afforded for putting this rule in practice.
CHAPTER VI.
Marriage.
SECTION I. Why Matrimony is a Duty.
Matrimony is a subject of high importance and interest. It is important, because it was among the earliest institutions of the great Creator; because it has always existed in some form or other, and must continue to exist, or society cannot be sustained; and because in proportion as the ends of the Creator are answered by its establishment, just in the same proportion does the happiness of society rise or fall. It points out the condition of society in this respect as accurately as a thermometer shows the temperature of the surrounding atmosphere. I might even go farther, and say, that in proportion as the original and real ends of marriage are answered, do the interests of religion also rise or sink.[11]
This institution is peculiarly interesting from the fact that it involves so many items of human happiness. We often speak of the value of friendship. What friendship like that which results from a happy union of the sexes? We talk of education. What school so favorable to improvement as the domestic circle may be rendered? Whether we consider education in a physical, mental or moral point of view, all its plans are imperfect without this. No man or woman is, as a general rule, fully prepared for the humblest sphere of action on earth, without the advantages which are peculiar to this institution. Nor has any man done his whole duty to God, who has left this subject out of consideration.
It has sometimes been said, and with much truth, that 'no unmarried person was ever thoroughly and completely educated.' It appears to me that were we to consider the intellectual and physical departments of education, merely, this would be true; but how much more so when we take in morals? Parents,—teachers,—what are they? Their labors are indeed of infinite value, in themselves considered; but it is only in a state of matrimony, it is only when we are called to the discharge of those multiplied duties which are involved in the endearing relations of husband, wife, parent and guardian, that our characters are fully tested and established. Late in life as these relations commence, the circumstances which they involve are so peculiar that they modify the character of the parties much more than has usually been considered.
I am fond, therefore, of contemplating the married state as a school;—not merely for a short term, but for life;—not one whose teachers are liable to be changed once or twice a year to the great disadvantage of all who are concerned, but whose instructors are as permanent as the school itself. It is true, that like other schools, it may result in the formation of bad character; but in proportion to its power to accomplish either good or bad results, will be its value, if wisely improved.
It is not to be denied that this view of the subject is in favor of early marriage. And I can truly say, indeed, that every thing considered, early marriage does appear to me highly desirable. And it would require stronger arguments than any which I have yet seen adduced, even by some of our political economists, to make me surrender this opinion.
The only serious objection, of a popular kind, to early marriage, arises from the difficulty of supporting a family. But the parties themselves must be supported at all events, whether married or single. 'But the consequences'—And what are the consequences? An earlier family, indeed; but not of necessity a larger. I believe that facts will bear me out in stating that the sum total of the progeny of every thousand families who commence at from twenty-five to thirty, is as great as that of one thousand who begin at from twenty to twenty-five. I have even seen pretty large families where the eldest was thirty-five years younger than both the parents; and one or two instances of numerous families where marriage did not take place till the age of forty. Physiologists have long observed this singular fact, and it has sometimes been explained by saying, if indeed it be an explanation, that Nature, in these cases, unwilling to be cheated out of her rights, endeavors to make up in energy and activity what has been lost in time.
The question, however, will recur, whether families, though equally large, cannot be better maintained when marriage is deferred to a later period. And it certainly is a question of immense importance; For nothing is more painful than to see large families, whose parents, whether young or more advanced, have not the means of educating them properly. It is also not a little painful to find instances of poverty so extreme that there is absolute suffering, for want of food and clothing.
But the question must be determined by facts. And it would be greatly aiding the cause of humanity if extensive comparisons were made between the pecuniary condition of those who marry early and those who defer the subject to a later period. But from my own limited observation I am fully of opinion that the result of the comparison would be greatly in favor of early marriages. Should this prove to be true, the position which I have assumed is, I think, established; for it appears to me that no other argument for delay has any claim to our notice.
On the other hand, the following, among other evils, are the results of deferring marriage.
1. The temper and habits of the parties become stiff and unyielding when advanced in life, and they learn to adapt themselves to each other with difficulty. In the view which I have taken above they become miserable as teachers, and still more miserable as scholars.
2. Youth are thus exposed to the danger of forming habits of criminal indulgence, as fatal to the health and the character, as they are ruinous to the soul.
3. Or if they proceed not so far, they at least acquire the habit of spending time in vain or pernicious amusements. All mankind must and will seek for gratifications of some sort or other. And aside from religious principle, there is no certain security against those amusements and indulgences which are pernicious and destructive, but early and virtuous attachments, and the pleasures afforded by domestic life. He can never want for amusement or rational gratification who is surrounded by a rising family for whom he has a genuine affection.
4. Long continued celibacy contracts the mind, if it does not enfeeble it. For one openhearted liberal old bachelor, you will find ten who are parsimonious, avaricious, cold-hearted, and too often destitute of those sympathies for their fellow beings which the married life has a tendency to elicit and perpetuate.[12]
5. Franklin says that late marriages are attended with another inconvenience, viz.; that the chance of living to see our children educated, is greatly diminished.
6. But I go much farther than I have hitherto done, and insist that other things being equal, the young married man has the advantage in a pecuniary point of view. This is a natural result from the fact that he is compelled to acquire habits of industry, frugality, and economy; and is under less temptation to waste his time in trifling or pernicious amusements. But I may appeal to facts, even here. Look around you in the world, and see if out of a given number of single persons, say one thousand, of the age of thirty-five, there be not a greater number in poverty, than of the same number who settled in life at twenty.
Perhaps I ought barely to notice another objection to these views. It is said that neither the mind nor the body come to full maturity so early as we are apt to suppose. But is complete maturity of body or mind indispensable? I am not advocating the practice of marrying in childhood. It takes sometime for the affections toward an individual to ripen and become settled. This is a matter involving too high responsibilities to justify haste. The consequences, speaking generally, are not confined to this life; they extend to eternity.
[11] Some of the topics of this section have been anticipated, in part, in a previous chapter; but their importance entitles them to a farther consideration.
[12] I know this principle is sometimes disputed. A late English writer, in a Treatise on Happiness, at page 251 of Vol. II, maintains the contrary. He quotes from Lord Bacon, that 'Unmarried men are the best friends, best masters, and best servants,' and that 'The best works, and of greatest merit for the public, have proceeded from unmarried or childless men.' He also introduces Jeremy Taylor, as saying that 'Celibacy, like a fly in the heart of an apple, dwells in perpetual sweetness.'
In commenting upon these remarks, this writer says, 'One half of the most eminent persons that have ever lived in the world of science and literature, have remained unmarried,' and 'in the connubial state, too frequently, the sympathies are connected within the family circle, while there is little generosity or philanthropy beyond.' And lastly, that 'Unmarried men possess many natural excellences, which if not engrossed by a family will be directed towards their fellow creatures.'
Now it is admitted that many eminent men, especially in science and literature, have been bachelors; and that among them were Newton and Locke. But this only proves that while thousands and tens of thousands of their fellow beings spent their lives in insignificance, for want of a definite object to live for, these men, having an object before them, accomplished something. And if you could induce one single man in a thousand, nay, one in ten thousand, to make a similar use of his exemption from the cares of a family, much might be expected from celibacy; or at least, the results of their labors might be a partial compensation to society for the evil tendency of their example. For marriage cannot be denied to be an institution of God, and indispensable to the existence of society. And who can say that he has purchased an indulgence to disobey a law which is in some respects paramount to every other, however great the price he may have paid?
That marriage tends to concentrate our sympathies within the family circle, I do not believe. A proper investigation of the subject will, I am certain, prove this assumption unfounded. Facts do not show unmarried men to be 'best friends, masters, servants' &c.; and I am sorry to find such a theory maintained by any sensible writer. Some of the illustrious examples of celibacy which are usually brought, were by no means estimable for their social feelings or habits. What would become of mankind, if they were all to immure themselves in dungeons, or what is nearly the same thing to social life, among books and papers? Better, by far, to remain in ignorance of the material laws which govern the universe, than to become recluses in a world like this. Better even dispense with some of the lights which genius has struck out to enable us to read suns and stars, than to understand attraction in the material world, while we are insensible to all attractions of a moral and social kind. God has made us to feel, to sympathize, and to love,—as well as to know.
SECTION II. General Considerations.
We are now to enter on a most important part of our subject. Hitherto it had been my object to point out the proper course for you to pursue in reference to yourself, your own improvement, and consequent usefulness. In the remarks of the preceding chapter, and in those which follow, you are regarded as seeking a companion; as anxious to assume new relations, such as involve new duties and new responsibilities.
If you are successful, instead of educating yourself alone, you are to be concerned in improving the mental, moral, and social condition of two persons; and in the end, perhaps others. You are to be a teacher; you cannot avoid this station if you would. But you are also to be a learner. Dr. Rush says we naturally imitate the manners, and gradually acquire the tempers of persons with whom we live, provided they are objects of our affection and respect. 'This,' he adds, 'has been observed in husbands and wives who have lived long and happily together; and even in servants.' And nothing can be more true.
Not only your temper and that of your companion, but your whole character, considered as physical, mental, and moral beings, will be mutually improved or injured through life. You will be placed, as I have already intimated, at a school of mutual instruction, which is to continue without vacation or change of monitors,—perhaps half a century;—during every one of the earliest years of which, your character will be more really and more permanently modified than in the same amount of time at any prior period of your education, unless it were in the veriest infancy.
Surely then it is no light affair to make preparation for a school like this. There is no period in the life of a young man so important; for there is none on which his happiness and the happiness of others so essentially depend.
Before I advert to the particular qualifications which it is necessary for you to seek in so intimate a friend, I shall mention a few considerations of a general nature.
Settle it, in the first place, that absolute perfection is not to be found. There are not a few young men of a romantic turn of mind, fostered and increased by reading the fictitious writings of the day, who have pictured to themselves for companions in life unreal forms and angelic characters, instead of beings who dwell in 'houses of clay,' and are 'crushed before the moth.' Such 'exalted imaginations' must sooner or later be brought down: happy will it be with those who are chastened in due season.
In the second place, resolve never to be misled by any adventitious circumstances. Wealth, beauty, rank, friends, &c, are all proper considerations, but they are not of the first importance. They are merely secondary qualifications. Marriage must never be a matter of bargain and sale; for
In the third place, no marriage engagement should ever be thought of unless there is first a genuine and rational attachment. No cold calculations of profit or loss, no hereditary estates or other adventitious circumstances, though they were equivalent to a peerage, or a realm, should ever, for one moment, even in thought, be substituted for love. It is treason to Him who ordained this most blessed institution.
But fourthly, though wealth, however valuable in itself, is by no means a recommendation in the present case, yet the means of a comfortable support are certainly to be regarded. It is painful to see a very young couple, with a large family, and destitute of the means of support.
In the fifth place, a suitable age is desirable.
When we consider the varying tastes, habits and feelings of the same person at different periods of his life, is it not at once obvious that, other things being equal, those persons are most likely to find that happiness which is sought in matrimony, by associating with those whose age does not differ greatly from their own? It is true, some of the happiest human connexions that ever were formed were between persons of widely differing ages; but is this the general rule? Would not those who have found happiness under other circumstances, have been still happier, had their ages been more nearly equal?
There is little doubt that a person advanced in life may lengthen his days by a connection with a person much younger than himself. Whether the life of the other party is not shortened, in an equal degree, at the same time, and by the same means, remains to be determined; but probably it is so.
Some men and women are as old, in reality, whatever their years may indicate, at twenty, as others at twenty-five. The matrimonial connection then may be safely formed between parties whose ages differ a few years; but I think that as a general rule, the ages of the parties ought to be nearly equal.
Lastly, it was believed by a great observer of human nature, the late Dr. Spurzheim, that no person was fit for the domestic relations who had not undergone trials and sufferings. The gay reader may smile at this opinion, but I can assure him that many wise men besides Spurzheim have entertained it. Chateaubriand, among others, in his 'Genius of Christianity,' advances the same opinion. Some, as we have seen, hold that no person can be well educated without suffering. Such persons, however, use the term education as meaning something more than a little scientific instruction;—as a means of forming character. In this point of view no sentiment can be more true. Even the Bible confirms it, when it assures us, that the 'Captain of our Salvation was made perfect through sufferings.'
SECTION III. Female Qualifications for Marriage.
1. MORAL EXCELLENCE.
The highest as well as noblest trait in female character, is love to God. When we consider what are the tendencies of Christianity to elevate woman from the state of degradation to which she had, for ages, been subjected—when we consider not only what it has done, but what it is destined yet to do for her advancement,—it is impossible not to shrink from the presence of an impious, and above all an unprincipled atheistical female, as from an ungrateful and unnatural being.
Man is under eternal obligations to Christianity and its Divine Author, undoubtedly; but woman seems to be more so.
That charge against females which in the minds of some half atheistical men is magnified into a stigma on Christianity itself, namely that they are more apt to become religious than men; and that we find by far the greater part of professing Christians to be females, is in my own view one of the highest praises of the sex. I rejoice that their hearts are more susceptible than ours, and that they do not war so strongly against that religion which their nature demands. I have met with but one female, whom I knew to be an avowed atheist.
Indeed there are very few men to be found, who are skeptical themselves, who do not prefer pious companions of the other sex. I will not stop to adduce this as an evidence of the truth of our religion itself, and of its adaptation to the wants of the human race, for happily it does not need it. Christianity is based on the most abundant evidence, of a character wholly unquestionable. But this I do and will say, that to be consistent, young men of loose principles ought not to rail at females for their piety, and then whenever they seek for a constant friend, one whom they can love,—for they never really love the abandoned—always prefer, other things being equal, the society of the pious and the virtuous.
2. COMMON SENSE.
Next on the list of particular qualifications in a female, for matrimonial life, I place COMMON SENSE. In the view of some, it ought to precede moral excellence. A person, it is said, who is deficient in common sense, is, in proportion to the imbecility, unfit for social life, and yet the same person might possess a kind of negative excellency, or perhaps even a species of piety. This view appears to me, however, much more specious than sound.
By common sense, as used in this place, I mean the faculty by means of which we see things as they really are. It implies judgment and discrimination, and a proper sense of propriety in regard to the common concerns of life. It leads us to form judicious plans of action, and to be governed by our circumstances in such a way as will be generally approved. It is the exercise of reason, uninfluenced by passion or prejudice. To man, it is nearly what instinct is to brutes. It is very different from genius or talent, as they are commonly defined; but much better than either. It never blazes forth with the splendor of noon, but shines with a constant and useful light. To the housewife—but, above all, to the mother,—it is indispensable.
3. DESIRE FOR IMPROVEMENT.
Whatever other recommendations a lady may possess, she should have an inextinguishable thirst for improvement. No sensible person can be truly happy in the world, without this; much less qualified to make others happy. But the genuine spirit of improvement, wherever it exists, atones for the absence of many qualities which would otherwise be indispensable: in this respect resembling that 'charity' which covers 'a multitude of sins.' Without it, almost everything would be of little consequence,—with it, every thing else is rendered doubly valuable.
One would think that every sensible person, of either sex, would aspire at improvement, were it merely to avoid the shame of being stationary like the brutes. Above all, it is most surprising that any lady should be satisfied to pass a day or even an hour without mental and moral progress. It is no discredit to the lower animals that—'their little all flows in at once,' that 'in ages they no more can know, or covet or enjoy,' for this is the legitimate result of the physical constitution which God has given them. But it is far otherwise with the masters and mistresses of creation; for
'Were man to live coeval with the sun, The patriarch pupil should be learning still, And dying, leave his lessons half unlearnt.'
There are,—I am sorry to say it—not a few of both sexes who never appear to breathe out one hearty desire to rise, intellectually or morally, with a view to the government of themselves or others. They love themselves supremely—their friends subordinately—their neighbors, perhaps not at all. But neither the love they bear to themselves or others ever leads them to a single series of any sort of action which has for its ultimate object the improvement of any thing higher than the condition of the mere animal. Dress, personal appearance, equipage, style of a dwelling or its furniture, with no other view, however, than the promotion of mere physical enjoyment, is the height of their desires for improvement!
Talk to them of elevating the intellect or improving the heart, and they admit it is true; but they go their way and pursue their accustomed round of folly again. The probability is, that though they assent to your views, they do not understand you. It requires a stretch of charity to which I am wholly unequal, to believe that beings who ever conceived, for one short moment, of the height to which their natures may be elevated, should sink back without a single struggle, to a mere selfish, unsocial, animal life;—to lying in bed ten or twelve hours daily, rising three or four hours later than the sun, spending the morning in preparation at the glass, the remainder of the time till dinner in unmeaning calls, the afternoon in yawning over a novel, and the evening in the excitement of the tea table and the party, and the ball room, to retire, perhaps at midnight, with the mind and body and soul in a feverish state, to toss away the night in vapid or distressing dreams.
How beings endowed with immortal souls can be contented to while away precious hours in a manner so useless, and withal so displeasing to the God who gave them their time for the improvement of themselves and others, is to me absolutely inconceivable! Yet it is certainly done; and that not merely by a few solitary individuals scattered up and down the land; but in some of our most populous cities, by considerable numbers.
A philanthropic individual not long since undertook with the aid of others, to establish a weekly or semi-weekly gazette in one of our cities, for almost the sole purpose, as I have since learned, of rousing the drones among her sex to benevolent action in some form or other, in behalf of members of their families, their friends or their neighbors. She hoped, at first, to save them from many hours of ennui by the perusal of her columns; and that their minds being opened to instruction, and their hearts made to vibrate in sympathy with the cries of ignorance, poverty, or absolute distress, their hands might be roused to action. But alas, the articles in the paper were too long, or too dry. They could not task their minds to go through with an argument.
Should the young man who is seeking an 'help meet,' chance to fall in with such beings as these—and some we fear there are in almost every part of our land,—let him shun them as he would the 'choke damp' of the cavern.
Their society would extinguish, rather than fan the flame of every generous or benevolent feeling that might be kindling in his bosom. With the fond, the ardent, the never failing desire to improve, physically, intellectually, and morally, there are few females who may not make tolerable companions for a man of sense;—without it, though a young lady were beautiful and otherwise lovely beyond comparison, wealthy as the Indies, surrounded by thousands of the most worthy friends, and even talented, let him beware! Better remain in celibacy a thousand years (could life last so long) great as the evil may be, than form a union with such an object. He should pity, and seek her reformation, if not beyond the bounds of possibility; but love her he should not! The penalty will be absolutely insupportable.
One point ought to be settled,—I think unalterably settled—before matrimony. It ought indeed so be settled in early life, but it is better late, perhaps, than never. Each of the parties should consider themselves as sacredly pledged, in all cases, to yield to conviction. I have no good opinion of the man who expects his wife to yield her opinion to his, on every occasion, unless she is convinced. I say on every occasion; for that she sometimes ought to do so, seems to be both scriptural and rational. It would be very inconvenient to call in a third person as an umpire upon every slight difference of opinion between a young couple, besides being very humiliating. But if each maintain, with pertinacity, their opinion, what can be done? It does seem to me that every sensible woman, who feels any good degree of confidence in her husband, will perceive the propriety of yielding her opinion to his in such cases, where the matter is of such a nature that it cannot be delayed.
But there are a thousand things occurring, in which there is no necessity of forming an immediate opinion, or decision, except from conviction. I should never like the idea of a woman's conforming to her husband's views to please him, merely, without considering whether they are correct or not. It seems to me a sort of treason against the God who gave her a mind of her own, with an intention that she should use it. But it would be higher treason still, in male, or female, not to yield, when actually convinced.
4. FONDNESS FOR CHILDREN.
Few traits of female character are more important than this. Yet there is much reason to believe that, even in contemplating an engagement that is expected to last for life, it is almost universally overlooked. Without it, though a woman should possess every accomplishment of person, mind, and manners, she would be poor indeed; and would probably render those around her miserable. I speak now generally. There may be exceptions to this, as to other general rules. A dislike of children, even in men, is an unfavorable omen; in woman it is insupportable; for it is grossly unnatural. To a susceptible, intelligent, virtuous mind, I can scarcely conceive of a worse situation in this world or any other, than to be chained for life to a person who hates children. You can purchase, if you have the pecuniary means, almost every thing but maternal love. This no gold can buy. Wo to the female who is doomed to drag out a miserable existence with a husband who 'can't bear children;' but thrice miserable is the doom of him who has a wife and a family of children, but whose children have no mother! If there be orphans any where in the wide world, they are these.[13]
The more I reflect on the four last mentioned traits of female character, the more they rise in my estimation, eclipsing all others; unless perhaps, a good temper.
It is said that after every precaution, the choice of a wife is like buying a ticket in a lottery. If we were absolutely deaf and blind in the selection, and were so from necessity, the maxim might be just. But this is not so. We shut our eyes and stop our ears voluntarily, and then complain of the imperfection of our means of forming a judgment. In truth we impeach the goodness of Him who was the author of the institution.
No young man is worthy of a wife who has not sense enough to determine, even after a few interviews, what the bent of a lady's mind is;—whether she listens with most pleasure to conversation which is wholly unimproving, or whether she gladly turns from it, when an opportunity offers, to subjects which are above the petty chit-chat or common but fashionable scandal of the day; and above all, avoids retailing it. He knows, or may know, without a 'seven years' acquaintance, whether she spends a part of her leisure time in reading, or whether the whole is spent in dressing, visiting, or conversing about plays, actors, theatres, &c. And if she reads a part of the time, the fault must be his own, if he does not know whether she relishes any thing but the latest novel, or the most light—not to say empty—periodical. Let it be remembered, then, by every young man that the fault is his own, if he do not give himself time, before he forms an engagement that is to last for life, to ascertain whether his friendship is to be formed with a person who is desirous of improvement, or with one who, living only for pleasure, is 'dead while she liveth.' |
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