<h5 id="id00843">SOCIAL IMPROVEMENT.</h5>
<p id="id00844" style="margin-top: 2em">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.</p>
<p id="id00845" style="margin-top: 2em">Were there but a single individual in the wide world, that individual,
with the laws that woman now has to guide her—laws internal and
external, natural and revealed—would be susceptible of endless and
illimitable improvement. She might make advances every day—and it
would he her duty to do so—upward toward the throne of God, and
towards the perfection of him who occupies it.</p>
<p id="id00846">But if much might be done by an individual in a solitary state, how
much more may be accomplished in the social state in which it has
pleased our Heavenly Father to place us? It is difficult to turn our
eyes in any direction, without being met by numerous and striking
proofs of divine wisdom and benevolence; but if there be any one thing
in the whole moral world, short of the redemption by Jesus Christ,
which overwhelms me with wonder, and leads me to adore more than any
thing else, it is the divine wisdom and benevolence, as manifested in
the social state allotted to man.</p>
<p id="id00847">How interesting—how exceedingly so—the relation between a mother and
a daughter? And how many blessings—deficient as many mothers are in
knowledge and love—are showered upon the head of a young woman,
through maternal instrumentality! In no case; however, is this relation
more interesting, than when the young woman is just beginning to act
for herself. Then, if ever, should she avail herself of them. She knows
little of the world before her—either of the dangers on the one hand,
or the advantages on the other. Of these, however, the mother knows
much. Let the daughter value her society and good counsel above all
else human, and lay hold of it as for her life.</p>
<p id="id00848">How interesting, too, the relation between a wise and good father, and
a virtuous and affectionate daughter! I am most struck, however, with
this relation—and most reminded of the divine goodness in its
institution—when I see a daughter ministering to the wants, moral and
physical, of a very aged relative, parent or grandparent; one who is
superannuated or sick.</p>
<p id="id00849">There are, in civilized society—and above all, where the rays of the
blessed gospel of the Son of God have been let in—scenes on which
angels themselves might delight to gaze, and on which I have no doubt
they do gaze with the most intense delight. Would that such scenes were
still more frequent! Would that filial love was always what it should
be, instead of degenerating into cold formalities.</p>
<p id="id00850">"How have I been charmed;" says Addison, "to see one of the most
beauteous women the age has produced, kneeling to put on an old man's
slipper." And so have I. It is a sight which revives one's hopes of
fallen nature. No matter if the infirmities of the parent are the
consequences of his own folly, vice and crime, the same soft hand is
still employed, day after day—and the same countenance is lighted up
with a smile, at being able thus to employ it.</p>
<p id="id00851">But when to the tenderest love on the part of a young woman in this
relation, and to the kindest efforts to promote the temporal happiness
and comfort of those whom she holds dear is joined a love for the mind
and soul; when every opportunity, is laid hold of with eagerness, to
inform, and improve, and elevate—and this, too, though the subject of
her labor is the most miserable wreck of humanity of which we can
conceive; when to works of love are added the warmest prayers, at the
bedside and elsewhere, for Almighty aid and favor; the interest of the
scene is indescribable. It needs a more than mortal pen or pencil to
portray it.</p>
<p id="id00852">There are other relations of society—relations of the young woman, I
mean, in particular—which are of great importance and interest. Among
these, are the relations of brother and sister.</p>
<p id="id00853">Perhaps I am inclined to make too much of the passage of
Scripture—already noticed in another chapter—where Cain is said to
have been set over Abel, in the very language which is used to signify
the superiority of Adam over Eve. And yet it must mean something. There
is a mutual dependence between brothers and sisters of every age, which
should result in continual improvement—intellectual, moral and
religious. The duties involved in this relation, however, will be more
especially binding on elder brothers and sisters; and as it appears to
me, above all, on elder sisters. Indeed, in this respect, it is
impossible for me to be mistaken. An elder sister is a sort of second
mother; and she often fulfils the place of a mother. Oh, how
important-how sacred—the trust committed to her keeping.</p>
<p id="id00854">I have seen the care of a large family devolve, by the death of the
mother, upon the elder daughter. Instead of her being disheartened at
all, I have known her to go forward in the pathway of duty—sensible,
at the same time, of her dependence on her Heavenly Father—and not
only instruct the other children, but "train them up," in same good
degree, "in the way they should go."</p>
<p id="id00855">Do you think I respected or loved this young woman the less, because
she was thus early a house—keeper, a matron, and a mother? Do you
think I esteemed her the less, because—exclusive of the common
school—she had no seminary of instruction? Her education was a
thousand times more valuable than that of the fashionable routine of
the schools, without the kind of discipline she had. A world whose
females were all educated in the family schools—and especially in the
school of affliction, and poverty, and hardship—would be incomparably
a better world than one whose young women should "wear soft clothing,"
and live in "kings' courts"—who should be educated by merely
fashionable mothers, amid ease and abundance, and "finished" at the
institute or the boarding school.</p>
<p id="id00856">Let me not be understood, in all this, as undervaluing kind mothers,
and boarding schools, and comforts—and luxuries, even—in themselves
considered. All I mean to discourage, is, a reliance on them, to the
exclusion of other things of more importance. If we could have the
latter in the first place—difficulties, hard-ships, hard labor, and
adversity—and upon these engraft the former, I should like it
exceedingly well. What I dislike is, not ornament, in itself, but
ornament on that which is not worth ornamenting; and above all,
<i>nothing but ornament</i>.</p>
<p id="id00857">Let every young woman whose eye meets these paragraphs, rejoice, if she
has younger brothers or sisters—or even if she has brothers or sisters
at all. The younger may do something for the older, as well as the
older much for the younger. And if she is without either, there are
probably other and remoter relatives for whom something may be done.</p>
<p id="id00858">I have alluded, elsewhere, to grand-parents There are usually uncles,
aunts and cousin's—sometimes in great numbers. There is much due to
these. I know, very well, that out over-refinement, in an over-refined
and diseased society, says otherwise, of late; and that our time is
expended more and more—especially that of females—on our own dear
selves to the exclusion of remoter relatives. But this should not be
the case. Whether we have brethren or sisters, properly so called,
together with other more distant relatives, or not, <i>we have brethren
and sisters</i>. The world is but a great family; and all are brethren, or
ought to be so. We should love all—even our enemies—as brethren; but
we should love, with the deepest and most enduring affection, those who
love God most ardently. "My mother and brethren are they that hear the
word of God and do it," said the Saviour; and it is only in proportion
as we possess his spirit, that we shall be found to belong, in the
truest sense, to his family.</p>
<p id="id00859">The ties of which I have been speaking, in the preceding paragraphs,
will have but poorly answered their purpose, if they have not had the
effect to raise us to this universal love referred to by the Saviour.
For this they were chiefly instituted; and to this, in the best state
of human society, do they tend. They do not lead us to love relations,
usually so called, any less: neither did they have this effect on
Jesus. But they lead us to love the world at large, more.</p>
<p id="id00860">If young women would have the spirit of our Lord and Saviour—or if
they would be instruments in his hands of hastening the glad day of his
more complete reign on the earth and in the hearts of his intelligent
family—they must strive to come up to this love of the human family.
It is to elevate them to this love, I again say, that the family
institution, with all the interesting relations which grow out of it,
was instituted. When it has accomplished this work, though it will not
cease to be valuable, in the abstract, it will be less valuable
relatively—because it will absorb a smaller proportion of our thoughts
and affections, and leave a larger proportion for the world in general,
and its Creator.</p>
<p id="id00861">I have quoted, elsewhere, the sentiments of Addison, in regard to the
filial affection of daughters. In the same paper, this interesting
writer embodies his views on this subject, in the character of a young
woman by the name of Fidelia, whose devotion to her father he describes
as follows:</p>
<p id="id00862">"Fidelia is now in the twenty-third year of her age; but the
application of many admirers, and her quick sense of all that is truly
elegant and noble in the enjoyment of a plentiful fortune, are not able
to draw her from the side of her good old father. When she was asked by
a friend of her deceased mother to admit the courtship of her son, she
answered that she had a great respect and gratitude to her for the
overture in behalf of one so near to her; but that during her father's
life, she would admit into her heart no value for any thing which
should interfere with her endeavors to make his remains of life as
happy and easy as could be expected in his circumstances. The happy
father has her declaration that she will not marry during his life, and
the pleasure of seeing that resolution not uneasy to her."</p>
<p id="id00863">Now, though I am not quite satisfied with the selfishness of the
father, in this case—nor with the notion of Fidelia, that the
particular friendship of another would interfere materially with her
filial duties—yet I do not undertake to say that there are no cases in
which a young woman has the right—the moral right—to make resolutions
not unlike that made by Fidelia. It does not seem that her resolution
to neglect the society of others for the sake of discharging an
important filial duty, was for a longer period, than during the short
life of a very decrepid old father.</p>
<p id="id00864">I have introduced this subject in this place, as the preface to a
series of remarks on that particular relation which every young
woman—except, perhaps, a few who are situated like Fidelia—ought to
be prepared to sustain, and to sustain well. Indeed, I consider this to
be paramount, at a suitable age, to every other; and that no duty can,
as a general rule, be more obligatory.</p>
<p id="id00865">He who instituted the law of marriage, has not, indeed, condescended to
say how early or in what circumstances this command must be yielded to,
or obeyed; but, as a general rule, he requires it to be obeyed, in some
form or other, and at some time or other. Or, to express the views I
entertain more correctly, I should say, that no young woman, in
ordinary circumstances, has a right to resolve to neglect the subject
forever—or to say she never will marry. She is to consider the command
of the Creator as obligatory, as a general fact, on the whole human
race. She must remember, moreover, that if it is binding on the whole,
it must be so on the individuals composing that whole.</p>
<p id="id00866">On these principles the education of every young woman should, as I
think, be conducted; and if, by the neglect of parents, masters or
guardians, it has not been so, then it should be the aim of the young
woman herself, in her efforts at self-education, to supply what has
been by others omitted. Some of the items in this work of education
have been alluded to—not only in the chapter on "Domestic Concerns;"
and in that on "Economy," but elsewhere. My purpose at the present
time, is merely to speak of the selection of her society with reference
to her future state of life.</p>
<p id="id00867">This is a subject of the highest importance to the happiness—present
and future—of every young woman. The marriage relation, considered
only as a means of completing the education of the parties, is one of
immense importance. But it is of still greater importance, in reference
to other duties which it involves. Hence it requires much forethought
and reflection. Let me prevail with you, therefore, when I urge upon
you the following considerations:</p>
<p id="id00868">1. Never think for one moment of the society of any other than a good
man. Whatever may be his extrinsic endowments—wit, beauty, talent,
rank, property or prospects—all should be as nothing to you, unless
his character is what it should be. Of course, I am not encouraging you
to look for angelic perfection or purity on this earth; but do not make
too many allowances, on the other hand, for frailty. A close
examination, as with the microscope, will disclose irregularity and
roughness on the most polished or smooth surface: how then will that
surface appear which is uneven without the microscope? If it were
possible for your associate for life to come apparently near celestial
purity and excellence, a closer acquaintance would, most undoubtedly,
convince you that he was of terrestrial origin. Do the best you can,
therefore, and you will do ill enough.</p>
<p id="id00869">2. It is not sufficient, however, that the friend you seek should be
good—that is, negatively so: he must do good. Multitudes, in these
days, pass for good men because they do no harm; or because, at most,
they maintain a good standing, and are benevolent in the eye of the
world. I know of more than one person in the world, who gives his
property by thousands, annually—and whose praise is in all the
churches—who never yet gave any thing worth naming, in his life, if
the gospel rule on this subject is the correct one—that the widow who
<i>of her penury</i> cast into the treasury two mites, in reality cast in
more than all they who of <i>their abundance</i> bestowed large and liberal
sums.</p>
<p id="id00870">Let your associate, therefore, be a doer of good, in deed and in truth.
This is said, however, with the supposition that you are so yourself;
for if I have not already convinced you that the great end for which
you were sent into the world is to do good, I shall not expect to do so
by any remarks which could be thrown in here. If you are still out of
the way, it is to be feared you will remain so: nor shall I expect
you—for reasons to be seen presently—to seek the society of those who
do not possess the same turn of mind.</p>
<p id="id00871">3. It is highly desirable that the individual with whom you associate
for life, should be something more than merely a good man. This,
however, does not explain my meaning. For are there not many of the
most excellent persons in the world, whom you would not willingly take
for a daily companion? Do you not desire likeness in opinion, taste,
purpose, &c.? Might not the two very best persons in the world be
unhappy in each other's constant society, if they were exceedingly
unlike each other?</p>
<p id="id00872">In the establishment, then, of this interesting relation, seek by all
means an individual who appears to entertain views of social life, as
much as possible, like your own. Does he find his happiness in going
abroad, or in lounging? Is he impatient in the society of children? Is
he a great friend of parade and excitement? And are you the reverse of
all this? Do you love most the quiet and retirement of home—and to be
surrounded by infancy and childhood? Do you dread, above almost all
things in the world, excitement and parade?</p>
<p id="id00873">Does your friend hate nothing so much as his own thoughts and
reflections? Does he dread, also, like the cholera or the plague, all
efforts at mental or moral improvement? Does he hate improving
conversation—and above all, those books and associates which have the
improvement and elevation of the body and spirit, for their great and
leading object? And have you a different taste—entirely so? Do you
live—do you eat, drink, sleep, wake, exercise, dress, labor, play,
converse, read, and think, and pray that you may become wiser, and
better, and holier?</p>
<p id="id00874">In short, is the ultimate object of the one, the gratification of self;
and does all, with him, terminate in the external; while the other
seeks primarily, in all things, the improvement, the holiness and the
happiness of herself and others? How can such persons be suitable
companions for each other? Can two walk together, says the Scripture,
unless they are agreed—that is, agreed as to the main points and
purposes of life?</p>
<p id="id00875">I know of no being whom I so much pity, as a young woman who,
believing, perhaps, that a "reformed rake," once handsome, or it may
be, a wit, makes the best companion, becomes chained for life to a
stupid, shiftless creature—one whose energies of body and soul are
exhausted, and seem unsusceptible of being renovated or restored—one,
too, with whom, in that more intimate acquaintance which time and
circumstances afford her, proves to be totally unworthy of her hand or
her heart!</p>
<p id="id00876">I have said that I know of no being so pitiable, as a young woman thus
situated. I know of none, I mean to say, except a young man in similar
circumstances. Did the effects of these unhappy companionships
terminate on themselves, the misfortune would not be so great. Woman,
at any rate, with her fortitude, might endure it. But it is not usually
so; and here is the great evil. Misery is inflicted on a new
generation; one that has done nothing to deserve it.</p>
<p id="id00877">Let me entreat my readers, therefore, while I urge them to regard the
companionship of which I am now speaking as a matter of duty, to be
exceedingly careful in their selection of a companion. Choose; but do
not be in haste. On the wisdom of your choice, much more depends than
you can now possibly imagine:—it is for your life. Would you could
realize this truth: for though so old and so often repeated that it may
appear rather stale, it is not the less true for its age.</p>
<p id="id00878">Have nothing to do, above all, with those who despise your sex. There
is a large number of young men—much larger, indeed, than you may be
aware, who have caught the spirit, not to say sentiments, of Byron, in
regard to woman.</p>
<p id="id00879">They have <i>caught</i> them, I say; but this, perhaps, is not so. I will
only say they <i>have</i> them. I know not how, as a general fact, they came
by them. I can only say that they are often very early imbibed; and
that they grow with their growth, and strengthen with their strength.
Would to Heaven this utter skepticism in regard to female worth and
purity could be removed; or rather prevented. It is the bane of social
life—as I could show, were I disposed to do so, by a thousand
illustrations.</p>
<p id="id00880">As a general rule—to which, perhaps, there are some exceptions—it is
according to human nature to suspect others to be wanting in those
virtues which we are conscious we are wanting in ourselves. Find a
person wanting in sterling integrity, and he is the very person to be
found complaining of the want of it in others. I will not say that his
complaints are not sometimes—indeed, quite too often—just; I only
say, that whether just or not, neither his suspicions nor complaints
prove them to be so.</p>
<p id="id00881">Beware, then—I beseech you, beware—of the young man who is ever
prating about the innate worthlessness, not to say vice, of your sex. I
do not say, reject him forever, simply on suspicion; for that would be
to go to the other extreme. But though I have admitted that there may
possibly be exceptions in regard to the general rule I have laid down,
I also insist that they are rare. Therefore, I again say, be wary in
forming your friendships—and especially so, in suffering them to
become more and more intimate.</p>
<p id="id00882">Precisely in these circumstances is it, that you may derive immense
benefit from a discreet female friend. But in this, too, you must be
deliberate, and use great judgment; for there are many whose views on
this subject are such as entirely to disqualify them for the office of
an adviser. I remember hearing a lady of great gravity—though of much
good sense in all other respects—say, that she thought the friends of
a young woman were much more competent to select a companion for her,
than she was to make the selection for herself. I was so struck with
the remark, that not knowing but I misapprehended her meaning, I
ventured to inquire whether she really meant to say, that other people
could judge better in regard to selecting a companion for life, than
the parties most concerned in the choice. To which she answered, Yes,
without hesitation; and immediately went upon a defence of her opinion.
I was as little pleased, however, with the defence, as with the
assertion; for the whole thing carried absurdity on the very face of
it. It cannot, surely, be so; it is contrary to the very nature of
things.</p>
<p id="id00883">I cannot help counselling you to be as wary of such an adviser, as of
the friend to whom she would direct your attention. The choice—the
final choice—be it never forgotten, rests on you: because on you rests
the responsibilities. While, therefore, you seek, with great
earnestness, for advice, seek it as advice only. Neither seek, nor
admit, in any case, a dictator.</p>
<p id="id00884">Be it also ever remembered, that it is your duty to sift, with great
care, the opinions and views of one in whom you are daily becoming more
and more deeply interested. If it be even true, that woman is <i>not</i>
distinguished for perseverance, let this fact only stimulate you to use
what powers of perseverance you possess. Though you are not to be held
responsible for the exercise of talents which you have not, you <i>are</i>
to account for what talents you have; and fearful may be the reward of
the individual who is found delinquent in the matter before us; fearful
in this life, even were it possible to escape punishment in the life to
come. Let a comparison, then, be faithfully made of your views on all
important subjects:—as female superiority or inferiority; selfishness
and benevolence; dress and equipage; education of ourselves and others;
discipline—its means, instruments and ends; household management;
amassing property; the chief end of human existence; particular duties,
&c.</p>
<p id="id00885">While I would encourage every young woman to look forward to married
life as a matter of duty, I am very far from desiring to encourage that
indiscriminate conversation, which, among young women, is rather
common. Let it be discussed by the young, chiefly in the company of
their parents. Above all, let not females be found talking with great
interest on this subject in the presence of the other sex. Such
conversation, in such circumstances, is evil, and only evil, in its
tendency.</p>
<p id="id00886">Parents may prevent this mistake in young women, if they will. The
mother, at least, can prevent it. Where mothers manage the matter as it
ought to be managed, you will not find daughters, on going into
company, so deeply interested in these matters that nothing seems so to
loosen the tongue, light up the countenance, and brighten the eye, as
conversation about the latest engagements and marriages, and nothing so
much or so quickly interest them in a newspaper, even a religious one,
and that, too, on the Sabbath, as the list of marriages. Alas! do
mothers or daughters know what are the practical common sense
inferences from this conduct, where it greatly abounds.</p>
<p id="id00887">Remember, moreover, in this matter, as well as in all other matters
which concern your own happiness and the happiness of others—in this
matter, I might say, which concerns your happiness more than almost all
others—to seek the direction of that Being who has said, "If any lack
wisdom, let him ask of God." You cannot, surely, obey this first
injunction on the human race, without first and always, at every step
of your course, seeking for his approbation. You cannot, in one word,
be concerned in a duty which may involve the destinies—present and
eternal—of millions and millions of human beings, without looking
upward toward the throne of God, and soliciting, with all the humility,
as well as confidence, of the most devoted child of an earthly parent,
that wisdom and guidance which are to be found in all fulness in the
Father of lights, and which, when properly apprehended, can never
mislead you.</p>
<h2 id="id00888" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XXXII.</h2>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />