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THE
BY WM. A. ALCOTT.
TENTH EDITION.
BOSTON:
PERKINS AND MARVIN
1836.
TO THE READER.
WHEN I commenced this work, my object was a mere compilation. There were many excellent books for young men, already in circulation, but none which I thought unexceptionable; and some of them contained sentiments which I could not approve. I sat down, therefore, intending to make selections from the choicest parts of them all, and prepare an unexceptionable and practical manual; such an one as I would be willing to see in the hands of any youth in the community.
In the progress of my task, however, I found much less that was
wholly in accordance with my own sentiments, than I had expected.
The result was that the project of compiling, was given up; and
a work prepared, which is chiefly original. There are, it is true,
some quotations from 'Burgh's Dignity of Human Nature,' 'Cobbet's
Advice to Young Men,' 'Chesterfield's Advice,' and Hawes' Lectures;
but in general what I have derived from other works is re-written,
and much modified. On this account it was thought unnecessary
to refer to authorities in the body of the work.
The object of this book is to elevate and reform. That it may prove useful and acceptable, as a means to these ends, is the hearty wish of
THE AUTHOR
Boston, Dec. 9, 1833.
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE FIRST EDITION.
THE great purpose of the Young Man's Guide, is the formation of such character in our young men as shall render them the worthy and useful and happy members of a great republic. To this end, the author enters largely into the means of improving the mind, the manners, and the morals; -- as well as the proper management of business. Something is also said on amusements, and bad habits. On the subject of marriage he has, however, been rather more full than elsewhere. The importance of this institution to every young man, the means of rendering it what the Creator intended, together with those incidental evils which either accompany or follow -- some of them in terrible retribution -- the vices which tend to oppose His benevolent purposes, are faithfully presented, and claim the special attention of every youthful reader.
ADVERTISMENT TO THE SECOND EDITION.
THE rapid sale of a large edition of this work, and the general tribute of public praise which has been awarded to its merits, instead of closing the eyes of the Publishers or the Author against existing defects, have, on the contrary, only deepened their sense of obligation to render the present edition as perfect as possible; and no pains have been spared to accomplish this end. Several new sections have been added to the work, and some of the former have been abridged or extended.
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE THIRD EDITION.
AN increasing demand for the Young Man's Guide, evinced by the sale of more than five thousnd copies of the work in a few months, have induced the publishers to give a third edition, with some amendments and additions by the author; who has also derived important suggestions from gentlemen of high literacy and moral standing, to whom the work had been submitted for examination.
THE PUBLISHERS.
THE young are often accused of being thought-less, rash, and unwilling to be advised.
That the former of these charges is in a great measure just, is not denied. Indeed, what else could be expected? They are thoughtless, for they are yet strangers to this world, and its cares and perplexities. They are forward, and sometimes rash; but this generally arises from that buoyancy of spirits, which health and vigor impart. True, it is to be corrected, let the cause be what it may; but we shall correct with more caution, and probably with greater success, when we understand its origin.
That youth are unwilling to be advised, as a gen-eral rule, appears
to me untrue. At least I have not found it so. When the feeling
does exist, I believe it often arises from parental mismanagement,
or from an unfortunate method of advising.
The infant seeks to grasp the burning lamp; ---- the parent endeavors
to dissuade him from it. At length he grasps it, and suffers the
consequences. Finally, however, if the parent manages him properly,
he learns to follow his advice, and obey his indications, in order
to avoid pain. Such, at least, is the natural result of rational
management. And the habit of seeking parental counsel, once formed,
is not easily eradicated. It is true that temptation and forgetfulness
may lead some of the young occasionally to grasp the lamp, even
after they are told better; but the consequent sufering generally
restores them to their reason. It is only when the parent neglects
or refuses to give advice, and for a long time manifests little
or no sympathy with his child, that the habit of filial reliance
and confidence is destroyed. In fact there are very few children
indeed, however improperly managed, who do not in early life acquire
a degree of this confiding, inquiring, counsel-seeking disposition.
Most persons, as they grow old, forget that they have ever been
young themselves. This greatly disqualifies them for social enjoyment.
It was wisely said; 'He who would pass the latter part of his
life with honor and decency, must, when he is young, consider
that he shall one day be old, and when he is old, remember that
he has once been young.' But if forgetfulness on this point disqualifies
a person for self enjoyment, how much more for that which is social?
Still more does it disqulify us for giving advice. While a lad,
I was at play, one day, with my mates, when two gentlemen observing
us, one of them said to the other; 'Do you think you ever acted
as foolishly as these boys do?' "Why yes; I suppose I did;' was
the reply. 'Well' said the other, 'I never did; ---- I know I
never did.'
Both of these persons has the name of parent, but he who could not believe he had ever acted like a child himself, is greatly destitute of the proper parental spirit. He never ---- or scarcely never ---- puts himself to the slightest inconvenience to promote, directly, the happiness of the young, even for half an hour.
He supposes every child ought to be grave, like himself. If he sees the young engaged in any of those exercises which are readily adapted to their years, he regards it as an entire loss of time, besides being foolish and unreasonable. He would have them at work, or at their studies. Whereas there is scarcely anthing that should give a parent more pleasure than to see his children, in their earliest years, enjoying that flow of spirits, which leads them forth to active, vigorous, blood-stirring sports.
Of all persons living, he who does not remember that he has once
been young, is the most completely disqualified for giving youthful
counsel. He obtrudes his advice occasionally, when the youth is
already under tempation, and borne along with the force of a vicious
current; but because he disregards it, he gives him up as heedless,
perhaps as obstinate. If advice is afterwords asked, his manners
are cold and repulsive. Or perhaps he frowns him away, telling
him he never follows his advice, and therefore it is useless to
give it. So common is ti to treat the young with a measure of
this species of roughness, that I cannot wonder the maxim has
obtained that the young, generally, 'despise counsel'. And yet,
I am fully conviced, no maxim is farther from the truth.
When we come to the very close of life, we cannot transfer, in a single moment, that knowledge of the world and of human nature which an experience of 70 years has afforded us. If, therefore, from any cause whatever, we have not already dealt it out to those around us, it is likely to be lost; ---- and lost forever. Now is it not a pity that what the young would regard as an invaluable treasure, could they come at it in such a manner, and at such sessions, as would be agreeable to them, and that, too, which the old are naturally so fond of distributing, should be buried with their bodies?
Let me counsel the young, then, to do every thing they can, consistently
with the rules of good breeding, to draw forth from theold the
treasures of which I have been speaking. Let them even make some
sacrifice of that buoyant feeling which,
at their age, is so apt to predominate. Let them conform, for
the time, in some measure, to the gravity of the aged, in order
to gain their favor, and secore their friendship and confidence.
I do not ask them wholly to forsake society, or their youthful
pastimes for this purpose, or to become grave habitually; for
this would be requireing too much. but there are moments when
old people, however disgusted they may be with the young, do so
far unbend themselves as to enter into cheerful and instructive
conversation. I can truly say that when a boy, some of my happiest
hours were spent in the society of the aged --- those too, who
were not always what they should have been. The old live in the
past, as truly as the young do in the future. Nothing more delights
them than to relate stories of 'olden time', especially when themselves
were the heroes. But they will not relate them, unless there is
somebody to hear. Let the young avail themselves of this propensity,
and make the most of it. Some may have been heroes in war; some
in travelling the country; others in hunting, fishing, agriculture
or the mechanic arts; and it may be that here and there one will
boast of his skill, and relate stories of his successin that noblest
of the arts and employments ---- the making of his fellow creatures
wise, and good, and happy.
In conversation with all these persons, you will doubtless hear
much that is uninteresting. But
where will you find any thing pure or perfect below the sun? The
richest ores contain dross. At the same time you cannot fail,
unless the fault is your own, to learn many valuable things from
them all. From war stories, you will learn history; from accounts
of travels, geography, human character, manners and customs; and
from stories of the good or ill treatment which may have been
experienced, you will learn how to secure the one, and avoid the
other. From one person you will learn one thing; from another
something else. Put these shreds together, and in time you will
form quite a number of pages in the great book of human nature.
You may thus, in a certain sense, live several lives at once.
One things more is to be remembered. The more you have, the more
you are bound to give. Common sense, as well as the Scripture,
says ' It is more blessed to give than to receive.' Remember that
as you advance in years you are bound to avoid falling in to the
very errors which, 'out of your own mouth' you have 'condemned'
in those who have gone before you; and to make yourselves as acceptable
as you can to the young, in order to secure their confidence,
and impart to them, little by little, those accumulated treasures
of experience which you have acquired in going through life, but
which must otherwise, to a very great extent, be buried with you
in your graves.
But, my young friends, there is one method besides conversation,
in which you may come at the wisdom of the aged; and that is through
the medium of books. Many old persons have written well, and you
cannot do better than to avail yourselves of their instructions.
This method has even one adantage over conversation. In the perusal
of a book, you are not so often prejudiced or disgusted by the
repulsive and perhaps chilling manner of him who wrote it, as
you might have been from his conversation and company.
I cannot but indulge the hope that you will find some valuable information and useful advice in this little book. It has cost me much labor to embody, in so small a compass, the results of my own experience on such a variety of subjects, and to arrange my thoughts in such a manner as seemed to me most likely to arrest and secure your attention. The work, however, is not wholly the result of my own experience, for I have derived many valuable thought from other writers.
An introductory chapter or preface is usually rather dry, but
if this should prove sufficiently interesting to deserve your
attention till you have read it, and the table of contents, thoroughly,
I have strong hopes that you will read the rest of the book. And
in accordance with my own principles, I believe you will try to
follow my advice; for I take it
for granted that none will purchase and read this work but such
as are willing to be advised. I repeat it, therefore ---- I go
upon the presumption that my advice will, in the main, be followed.
Not at every moment of your lives, it is true; for you will be
exposed on all sides to temptation, and, I fear, sometimes fall.
But when you come to review this chapter (for I hope I have written
nothing but what is worth a second reading) which contains directions
on that particular subject wherein you have failed, and find too,
how much you have suffered by neglecting counsel, and rashly seizing
the lamp, I am persuaded you will not soon fall again in that
particular direction.
In this view, I submit these pages to the youth of our American States. If the work should not please them, I shall be so far from attributing it to any fault or perversity of theirs, that I shall at once conclude I have not taken a wise and proper method of presenting my instructions.
THE YOUNG MAN'S GUIDE.
On the Formation of Character.
-------
SECTION I. Importance of aiming high, in the formation of character.
To those who have carefully examined the introduction and table
of contents, I am now prepared to give the following general direction;
Fix upon a high standard of character . To be thought well of, is not sufficient. The point you are
to aim at, is, the greatest possible degree of usefulness.
Some may think there is a danger of setting too high a standard
of action. I have heard teachers contend that a child will learn
to write much faster by having an inferior copy, than by imitating
one which is comparatively perfect; 'because,' say they, 'a pupil
is liable to be discouraged if you give him a perfect copy; but
if it is only a little in advance of his own, he will take courage
from the belief that he shall soon be equal to it.' I am fully
convinced, however, that this is not so. The more perfect the
copy you place before the child, provided it be written, and not
engraved, the better. For it must always be possible in the nature
of things, for the child to imitate it; and what is not absolutely
possible, every child may reasonably be expected to aspire after,
on the principle, that whatever man has done, man may do.
So in human conduct, generally; whatever is possible should be
aimed at. Did my limits permit, I might show that it is a part
of the divine economy to place before his rational creatures a
perfect standard of action, and to make it their duty to come
up to it.
He who only aimes at little, will accomplish but little. Expect
great things, and attempt great things. A neglect of this rule
produces more of the difference in the character, conduct, and
success of men, than is commonly supposed. Some start in life
without and leading object at all; some with a low one; and some
aim high: ---- and just in proportion to the elevation at which
they aim, will be their progress and success. It is an old proverb
that he who aims at the sun, will not reach it, to be sure, but
his arrow will fly higher than if he aims at an object on a level
with himself. Exactly so it is, in the formation of character,
except in one point. To reach the sun with an arrow is an impossibility,
but youth may aim high without attempting impossibilities.
Let me repeat the assurance that, as a general rule, you may be
whatever you will resolve to be. Determine that you will be useful
in the world, and you shall be. Young men seem to me utterly unconcious
of what they are capable of being and doing. Their efforts are
often few and feeble, because they are not awake to a full conviction
that any great thing or distinguished is in their power.
But whence came an Alexander, a Cæsar, a Charles XII, or a Napolean?
Or whence the better order of spirits, --- a Paul, an Alfred,
a Luther, a Howard, a Penn, a Washington? Were not these men once
like yourselves? What but self exertion, aided by the blessing
of Heaven, rendered these men so conspicuous for usefulness? Rely
upon it, ---- what these men once were, you may be. Or at the
least, you may make a nearer approach to them, than you are ready
to believe. Resolution is almost omnipotent. Those little words,
try, and begin, are sometimes great in their results. 'I can't,'
never accomplished any thing; --- 'I will try,' has achieved wonders.
This position might be proved and illustrated by innumerable facts;
but one must suffice.
A young man who had wasted his patrimony by profligancy, whilst
standing, one day, on the brow of a precipice from which he had
determined to throw himself, formed the sudden resolution to regain
what he had lost. The purpose thus formed was kept; and though
he began by shoveling a load of
coals into a cellar, for which he only received twelve and a half
cents, yet he proceeded from one step to another till he more
than recovered his lost possessions, and died worth sixty thousand
pounds sterling.
You will derive much advantage from a carful perusal of the lives
of eminent individuals, especially of those who were good as well
as great. You will derive comparatively little benefit from reading
the lives of those scourges of their race who have drenched the
earth in blood, except so far as it tends to show you what an
immense blessing they might have been to the world, had they devoted
to the work of human improvement those mighty energies which were
employed in human destruction. Could the physical and intellectual
energy of Napoleon, the order and method of Alfred, the industry,
frugality and wisdom of Franklin and Washington, and the excellence
and untiring perseverance of Paul, and Penn, and Howard, be united
in each individual of the rising generation, who can set limits
to the good, which they might, and inevitably would accomplish!
Is it too much to hope that some happier age will witness the
reality? Is it not even probable that the rising generation may
afford many such examples?
SECTION II. On Motives to action.
Not a few young men either have no fixed prin-ciples, no governing
motive at all, or they are influenced by those which are low and
unworthy. It is painful to say this, but it is too true. On such,
I would press the importance of the following considerations.
Among the motives to action which I would present, the first is
a regard to your own happiness. To this you are by no means indifferent
at present. Nay, the attainment of happiness is your primary object.
You seek it in every desire, word, and action. But you sometimes
mistake the road that leads to it, either for want of a friendly
hand to guide you, or because you refuse to be guided. Or what
is most common, you grasp at a smaller good, which is near, and
apparently certain, and in so doing cut yourselves off from the
enjoyment of a good which is often infinitely greater, though
more remote.
Let me urge, in the second place, a regard for the family to which
you belong. It is true you can never fully know, unless the bitterness
of ingratitude should teach you, the extent of the duty you owe
to your relatives; and especially to your parents. You cannot
know ---- at least till you are parents yourselves, ---- how their
hearts are bound up in yours. But if you do not in some measure
know it, till this late period, you are not fit to be parents.
In the third place, it is due to society, particularly to the
neighborhood or sphere in which you move, and to the associations
to which you may belong, that you strive to attain a very great
elevation of character. Here, too, I am well aware that it is
impossible, at your age, to perceive fully, how much you have
it in your power to contribute, if you will, to the happiness
of those around you; and here again let me refer you to the advice
and guidance of aged friends.
But, fourthly, it is due to the nation and age to which you belong,
that you fix upon a high standard of character. This work is intended
for American youth. American! did I say? This word, alone, ought
to call forth all of your energies, and if there be a slumbering
faculty within you, arouse it to action. Never, since the creation,
were the youth of any age or country so imperiously called upon
to exert themselves, as those whom I now address. Never before
were there so many important issues at stake. Never were such
immense results depending upon a generation of men, as upon that
which is now approaching the stage of action. These rising millions
are destined, according to all human probability, to form by far
the greatest nation that ever constituted an entire community
of freemen, since the world began. To form the character of these
millions involves
a greater amount of responsibility, individual and collective,
than any other work to which humanity has ever been called. And
the reasons are, it seems to me, obvious.
Now it is for you, my friends, to determine whether these weighty
responsibilities shall be fulfilled. It is for you to decide whether
this greatest of free nations shall, at the same time, be the
best. And as every nation is made up of individuals, you are each,
in reality, called upon daily, to settle this question: 'Shall
the United States, possessing the most ample means of instruction
within the reach of nearly all her citizens, the happiest government,
the healthiest of climates, the greatest abundance of the best
and most wholesome nutriment, with every other possible means
for developing all the powers of human nature, be peopled with
the most vigorous, powerful, and happy race of human beings which
the world has ever known?'
There is another motive to which I beg leave, for one moment,
to direct your attention. You are bound to fix on a high standard
of action, from the desire of obeying the will of God. He it is
who has cast your lot in a country which ---- all things considered
---- is the happiest below the sun. He it is who has given you
such a wonderful capacity for happiness, and instituted the delightful
relations of parent and child, and brother and sister, and friend
and neighbor. I might add, He it is, too, who has given you the
name American, ---- a
name which alone furnishes a passport to many civilized lands,
and like a good countenance, or a becoming dress, prepossesses
every body in your favor.
But what young man is there, I may be asked, who is not influenced
more or less, by all the motives which have been enumerated? Who
is there that does not seek his own happiness? Who does not desire
to please his parents and other relatives, his friends and neighbors?
Who does not wish to be distinguished for his attachment to country
and to liberty? Nay, who has not even some regard, in his conduct,
to the will of God?
I grant that many young men, probably the most of those into whose
hands this book will be likely to fall, are influenced, more or
less, by all these considerations. All pursue their own happiness,
no doubt. By far the majority of the young have, also, a general
respect for the good opinion of others, and the laws of the Creator.
Still, do not thousands and tens of thousands mistake, as I have
already intimated, in regard to what really promotes their own
happiness? Is there any certainty that the greatest happiness
of a creature can be secured without consulting the will of the
Creator? And do not those young persons greatly err, who suppose
that they can secure a full amount, even of earthly blessings,
without conforming, with the utmost strictness, to those rules
for conduct, which the Bible and the Book of Nature, so plainly
make known?
Too many young men expect happiness from wealth. This is their
great object of study and action, by night and by day. Not that
they suppose there is an inherent value in the wealth itself,
but only that it will secure the means of procuring the happiness
they so ardently desire. But the farther they go, in the pursuit
of wealth, for the sake of happiness, espcially if successful
in their plans and business, the more they forget their original
purpose, and seek wealth for the sake of wealth. To get rich,
in their principle motive to action.
So it is in regard to the exclusive pursuit of sensual pleasure,
or civil distinction. The farther we go, the more we lose our
original character, and the more we become devoted to the objects
of pursuit, and incapable of being roused by other motives.
The laws of God, whether we find them in the constitution of the
universe around us, or go higher and seek them in the revealed
word, are founded on a thorough knowledge of human nature, and
all its tendencies. Do you study natural science --- the laws
which govern matter, animate and inanimate? What is the lesson
which it constantly inculcates, but that it is man's highest interest
not to violate or attempt to violate the rules which Infinite
Wisdom has adopted; and taht every violation of his laws brings
punishment along with it? Do you study the laws of God, as revealed
in the Bible? And do they, too, aim to inculcate the necessity
of constant
and endless obedience to his will, at the same time that their
rejection is accompanied by the severest penalties which heaven
and earth can inflict? What, in short, is the obvious design of
the Creator, wherever and whenever any traces of his character
and purposes can be discovered? What, indeed, but to show us that
it is our most obvious duty and interest to love and obey Him?
The young man whose highest motives are to seek his own happiness,
and please his friends and neighbors, and the world around him,
does much. This sould never be denied. He merits much ---- not
in the eye of God, for of this I have nothing to say in this volume
--- but from his fellow men. And although he may have never performed
a single action from a desire to obey God, and make his fellow
men really better, as well as happier, he may still have been
exceedingly useful, compared with a large proportion of mankind.
But suppose a young man possesses a character of this stamp ---
and such there are. How is he ennobled, how is the dignity of
his nature advanced, how is he elevated from the rand of a mere
companion of creatures, --- earthly creatures, too, --- to that
of a meet companion and fit associate for the inhabitants of the
celestial world, and the Father of all; when to these traits,
so excellent and amiable in themselves, is joined the pure and
exalted desire to pursue his studies and his employments, his
pleasures and his pasttimes --- in a word, everything ---
even the most trifling concern which is worth doing, exactly as
God would wish to have it done; and make the means of so doing,
his great and daily study?
This, the, brings us to the highest of human motives to action,
the love of God. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God suprememly,
and thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself, are two great commands
which bind the human family together. When our love to God is
evinced by pure love to man, and it is our constant prayer, 'Lord
what wilt thou have me to do;' then we come under the influence
of motives which are worthy of creatures destined to immortality.
When it is our meat and drink, from a sacred regard to the Father
of our spirits, and of all things in the universe, material and
immaterial, to make every thought, word and action, do good ---
have a bearing upon the welfare of one or more, and the more the
better --- of our race, then alone do we come up to the dignity
of our nature, and, by Divine aid, place ourselves in the situation
for which the God of nature and of grace designed us.
I have thus treated, at greater length than I had at first intended,
of the importance of having an elevated aim, and of the motives
to action. One the means by which young men are to attain this
elevation, it is the purpose of this little work to dwell plainly
and fully. These means might be classed in three great divisions;
viz. physical, mental, and moral. Whatever relates
to the health, belongs to the first division; whatever to the
improvement of the mind, the second; and the formation of good
manners and virtuous habits, constitutes the third. But although
an arrangement of this sort might have been more logical, it would
probably have been less interesting to the reader. The means of
religious improvement, appropriately so called, require a volume
of themselves.
SECTION III. Industry .
Nothing is more essential to usefulness and happiness in life,
than habits of industry. 'This we commanded you,' says St. Paul,
'that if any would not work, neither should he eat.' Now this
would be the sober dictate of good sense, had the apostel never
spoken. It is just as true now as it was 2000 years ago, that
no person possessing a sound mind in a healthy body, has a right
to live in this world without labor. If he claims an existence
on any other condition, let him betake himself to some other planet.
There are many kinds of labor. Some which are no less useful than
others, are almost exclusively mental. You may make your own selection
from a very wide range of employments, all, perhaps, equally important
to society. But something you must do. Even if you happen to inherit
an ample fortune, your health and happiness demand that you should
labor. To live in idleness, even if you have
the means, is not only injurious to yourself, but a species of
fraud upon the community, and the children, --- if children you
ever have, --- who have a claim upon you for what you can earn
and do.
Let me prevail with you then, when I urge you to set out in life
fully determined to depend chiefly on yourself, for pecuniary
support; and to be in this respect, independent. In a country
where the general rule is that a person shall rise, --- if he
rise at all, --- by his own merit, such a resolution is indispensable.
It is usually idle to be looking out for support from some other
quarter. Suppose you should obtain a place of office or trust
through the friendship, favor, or affection of others; what then?
Why, you hold your post at uncertainties. It may be taken from
you at almost any hour. But if you depend on yourself alone, in
this respect, your mountain stands strong, and cannot very easily
be moved.
He who lives upon anything except his own labor, is incessantly
surrounded by rivals. He is in daily danger of being out-bidden;
his very bread depends upon caprice, and he lives in a state of
never ceasing fear. His is not, indeed, the dog's life, 'hunger
and idleness,' but it is worse; for it is 'idleness with slavery;'
the latter being just the price of the former.
Slaves, are often well fed and decently clothed; but they dare
not speak. They dare not be suspected even to think differently
from their master, despise
his acts as much as they may; --- let him be tyrant, drunkard,
fool, or all three at once, they must either be silent, or lose
his approbation. Though possessing a thousand times his knowledge,
they yeild to his assumption of superior understanding; though
knowing it is they who, in fact, do all that he is paid for doing,
it is destruction to them to seem as if they thought any portion
of the service belonged to themselves.
You smile, perhaps, and ask what all this tirade against slavery
means. But remember, there is slavery of several kinds. There
is mental slavery as well as bodily; and the former is not confined
to any particular division of the United States.
Begin, too, with a determination to labor through life. There
are many who suppose that when they have secured to themselves
a competance, they shall sit with folded arms, in an easy chair,
the rest of their days, and enjoy it. But they may be assured
that this will never do. The very fact of a person's having spent
the early and middle part of life in active usefulness, creates
a necessity, to the body and mind, of its continuance. By this
is not meant that men should labor as hard in old age, even in
proportion to their strength, as in early life. Youth requires
a great variety and amount of action, maturity not so much, and
age still less. Yet so much as age does, in fact, demand, is more
necessary than to those who are younger. Children are so tenacious
of life, that they do not appear to suffer
immediately, if exercise is neglected; though a day of reckoning
must finally come.
Hence we see the reason why those who retire from business towards
the close of life, so often become diseased, in body and mind;
and instead of enjoying life, or making those around them happy,
become a source of misery to themselves and others.
Most people have general belief in the importance of industrious
habits; and yet not a few make strange work in endeavoring to
form them. Some attempt to do it by compulsion; others by flattery.
Some think it is to be accomplished by set lessons, in spite of
example; others by example alone.
A certain father who was deeply convinced of the importance of
forming his sons to habits of industry, used to employ them whole
days in removing and replacing heaps of stones. This was well
intended, and arose from regarding industry as a high accomplishment;
but there is some danger of defeating our own purpose in this
way, and of producing disgust. Besides this, labor enough can
usually be obtained which is obviously profitable.
All persons, without exception, ought to labor more or less, every
day in the open air. Of the truth of this opinion, the public
are beginning to be sensible; and hance we hear much said, lately,
about manual labor schools. Those who, from particular circumstances,
cannot labor in the open air, should substitute in its place some
active mechanical
employment, together with suitable calisthenic or gymnastic exercises.
It is a great misfortune of the present day, that almost everyone
is, by his own estimate, raised above his real state of life.
Nearly every person you meet with is aiming at a situation in
which he shall be exempted from the drudgery of laboring with
his hands.
Now we cannot all become 'lords' and 'gentlemen', if we would.
There must be a large part of us, after all, to make and mend
clothes and houses, and carry on trade and commerce, and, is spite
of all that we can do, the far greater part of us must actually
work at something; otherwise we fall under the sentence; 'He who
will not work shall not eat.' Yet, so strong is the propensity
to be thought 'gentlemen;' so general is this desire amongst the
younth of this money making nation, that thousands upon thousands
of them are, at this moment, in a state which may end in starvation;
not so much because they are too lazy to earn their bread, as
because they are too proud!
And what are the consequences? A lazy youth becomes a burden to
those parents, whom he ought to comfort, if not support. Always
aspiring to something higher than he can reach, his life is a
life of disappointment and shame. If marriage befall him, it is
a real affliction, involving others as well as himself. His lot
is a thousand times worse than that of the common laborer. Nineteen
times
out of twenty a premature death awaits him: and, alas! how numerous
are the cases in which that death is most miserable, not to say
ignominious!
SECTION IV. On Economy.
There is a false, as well as a true economy. I have seen an individual
who, with a view to economy, was in the habit of splitting his
wafers. Sometimes a thick wafer can be split in two; but at others,
both part fall to pieces. Let the success be ever so complete,
however, all who reflect for a moment on the value of time, must
see it to be a losing process.
I know a laboring man who would hire a horse, and spend the greater
part of a day, in going six or eight miles and purchasing half
a dozen bushels of grain, at sixpence less a bushel than he must
have given near home. Thus to gain fifty cents, he subjected himself
to an expense, in time and money, of one hundred and fifty. These
are very common examples of defective economy; and of that 'with-holding'
which the Scripture says 'tends to poverty.'
Economy in time is economy of money ---- for it needs not Franklin
to tell us that time is equivalent to money. Besides, I never
knew a person who was economical of the one, who was not equally
so of the other. Economy of time will, therefore, be an important
branch of study.
But the study is rather difficult. For though every young man
of common sense knows that an hour is sixty minutes, very few
seem to know that sixty minutes makes an hour. On this account
many waste fragments of time, --- of one, two, three or five minutes
each --- without hesitation, and apparently without regret; ---
never thinking that fifteen or twenty such fragments are equal
to a full hour. 'Take care of the pence, the pounds will take
care of themselves,' is not more true, than that hours will take
care of themselves if you will only secure the minutes.* *
In order to form economical habits, several im-
* A teacher, who has been pleased to say much in behalf of this
work, and to do much to extend its circulation, in a late letter,
very modestly, but properly makes the follwing inquiry; 'Has not
Dr. Franklin's precept, time is money, made many misers? Is it
not used without sufficient qualification?
There is no good thing, nor any good advice, but what may be abused,
if used or taken without qualification. There my be misers in
regard to time, as well as money; and no one can become miserly
in the one respect without soon becoming so in the other. He who
cannot or rather will not give any portion of his time to promote
the happiness of those around him, in the various ways of doing
good, which perpetually offer, lest it should take from his means
of earning property, is as much to be pitied as he who hoards
all his dollars and cents. Still it is true that youth should
husband well their time, and avoid wasting either that or their
money.
portant points must be secured. You must have for every purpose
and thing a time, and place; and every thing must be done at the
time, and all things put in their place.
have something to do in each of them. If it be social conversation,
the moment your hour arrives, engage in it at once; if study,
engage at once in that. The very fact taht you have but a very
few minutes at your command, will create an interest in your employement
during that time.
Perhaps no persons read to better purpose than those who have
but very little leisure. Some of the very best minds have been
formed in this manner. To repeat their names would be to mention
a host of self-educated men, in this and in other countries. To
show what can be done, I will mention one fact which fell under
my own observation. A young man, about fifteen years of age, unaccustomed
to study, and with a mind wholly undisciplined, read Rollin's
Ancient History through in about three months, or a fourth of
a year; and few persons were ever more closely confined to a laborious
employment that he was during that whole time. Now to read four
such works as Rollin in a year, is by no means a metter to be
despised.
anything was out of its place, and none of his children could
find it, to blame the whole of them. This was an unreasonable
measure, but produced its intended effect. His whole family follow
his example; they have a place for everything, and they put everything
in its place.
Unless both the foregoing rules are observed, true economy does
not and cannot exist. But without economy, life is of little comparative
value to ourselves or others. This trait of character is generally
claimed, but more rarely possessed.
SECTION V. Indolence.
One of the greatest obstacles in the road to excel-lence , is
indolence. I have known young men who would reason finely on the
value of time, and the necessity of rising early and improving
every moment of it. Yet I have also known these same aspiring
young men to lie dozing, an hour or two in the morning, after
the wants of nature had been reasonable, and more than reasonably
gratified. You can no more rouse them, with all of their fine
arguments, than you can a log. There they lie, completely echained
by indolence.
I have known others continually complain of the shortness of time;
that they had no time for business, no time for study, &c. Yet
they would lavish hours in yawning at a public house, or hesitating
whether they had better go to the theatre or stay; or
whether they had better get up, or indulge in 'a little more slumber.'
Such people wear the most galling chains, and as long as they
continue to wear them there is no reasoning with them.
An indolent person is scarcely human; he is half quadruped, and
of the most stupid species, too. He may have good intentions of
discharging a duty, while that duty is at a distance; but let
it approach, let him view the time of action as near, and down
go his hands in languor. He wills, perhaps; but he unwills in
the next breath.
What is to be done with such a man, especially if he be a young
one? He is absolutely good for nothing. Business tires him; reading
fatigues him; the public service interferes with his pleasures,
or restrains his freedom. His life must be passed on a bed of
down. If his is employed, moments are as hours to him --- if he
is amused, hours are as moments. In general, his whole time eludes
him, he lets it glide unheeded, like water under a bridge. Ask
him what he has done with his morning, --- he cannot tell you;
for he has lived without reflection, and almost without knowing
whether he has lived at all.
The indolent man sleepss as long as it is possible for him to
sleep, dresses slowly, amuses himself in conversation with the
first person that calls upon him, and loiters about till dinner.
Or if he engages in any employment, however important, he leaves
it the moment an opportunity for talking occurs. At
length dinner is served up; and after lounging at the table a
long time, the evening will probably be spent as unprofitably
as the morning: and this it may be, is no unfair specimen of his
whole life. And is not such a wretch, for it is improper to call
him a man ---- good for nothing? What is he good for? How can
any rational being be willing to spend the precious life in a
manner so worthless, and so much beneath the dignity of human
nature? When he is about stepping into the grave, how can he review
the past with any degree of satisfaction? What is his history,
whether recorded here or there, --- in golden letters, or on the
plainest slab --- but, 'he was born' and 'he died!'
SECTION VI. Early Rising and Rest.
Dr. Rush mentions a patient of his who thought himself wonderfully
abstinant because he drank no spiritous or fermented liquors,
except a bottle of wine or so , after dinner!
In like manner some call it early to retire at ten or eleven o'clock.
Others think ten very late. Dr. Good, an English writer on medicine,
in treating some of the appropriate means of preventing the gout
in those who are predisposed to it, after giving directions in
regard to diet, drink, excercise, &c., recommends an early hour
of retiring to rest. 'By all means,' says he, 'you should to to
bed by eleven.'
To half the population of New England such a
direction would seen strange; but by the inhabitants of cities
and large towns, who already begin to ape the customs and fashions
of the old world, the caution is well understood. People who are
in the habit of making and attending parties which commence at
9 or 10 o'clock in the evening, can hardly be expected to rise
with the sun.
We hear much said about the benefit of the morning air. Many wise
men have supposed the common opinion on this subject to be erroneous;
and that the mistake has arisen from the fact that being refreshed
and invigorated by rest, the change is within instead of without;
that our physical frames and mental faculties are more healthy
than they were the previous evening, rather than that the surrounding
atmosphere has altered.
Whether the morning air is more healthy or not, it is certainly
healthy enough. Besides, there are so many reasons for early rising
that if I can persuade the reader to go to bed early, I shall
have little to fear of his lying late in the morning.
1st. He who rises early and plans his work, and early sets himself
about it, generally finds his business go well with him the whole
day. He has taken time by the foretop; and will be sure to go
before, or drive his business; while his more tardy neighbor 'suffers
his business to drive him.' There is something striking in the
feeling produced by beginning a day's work thus seasonably. It
gives an impulse to a man's thoughts, speech, and actions,
which usually lasts through the day. This is not a mere whim,
but sober fact; as can be attested by thousands. The person who
rises late, usually pleads (for mankind are very ingenious in
defence of what falls in with thier own inclinations,) that he
does as much in the progress of the day, as those who rise early.
This may, in a few instances, be true; but in general, facts show
the reverse. The motions of the early riser will be more lively
and vigorous all day. He may, indeed, become dull late in the
evening, but he ought to be so.
Sir Matthew Hale said that after spending a Sunday well, the rest
of the week was usually prosperous. This is doubtless to be accounted
for --- in part at least --- on the above principle.
* Dr. Franklin, in view of the latter fact, wrote a humourous
Essay, at Paris, in which he labored to show the people of that
luxurious and dissipated city, that the sun gives light as soon
as it rises.
and waking, after nature has been fully gratified. He who is awake
may be doing something; he who is asleep, is receiving the refreshment
necessary to fit him for action: but the hours spent in dozing
and slumbering can hardly be called existence.'
The late Dr. Smith, of Yale College, in his lectures, used to
urge on his hearers never to take 'the second nap.' He said that
if this rule were steadily and universally followed by persons
in health, --- there would be no dozing or oversleeping. If, for
once, they should awake from the first nap before nature was sufficiently
restored, the next night would restore the proper balance. In
laying this down as a rule, Dr. Smith would, of course, except
those instances in which we were awakened by accident.
intended man should excercise during the day, and sleep in the
night. I do not say the whole night; because in the winter and
in high northern latitudes, this would be devoting an unreasonable
portion of time to sleep. It would hardly do to sleep three or
four months. But in all countries, and in all climates, we should
try to sleep half our hours before midnight.
who should sleep from nine to five; --- a period one hour shorter.
But if so, he actually loses an hour of time a day. And you well
know, if Franklin had not told you so, that time is money .
Now, if we estimate the value of this time at ten cents an hour
for one person in four, of the population of the United States
--- and this is probably a fair estimate --- the loss to an individual
in a year, or 313 working days, would be $31.30; and in 50 years,
$1565. A sum sufficient to buy a good farm in many parts of the
country. The loss to a population equal to that of the United
States, would, in fifty years, be no less than five thousand and
eighty-six millions of dollars!
But this is not the whole less. The time of the young and old
is beyond all price for the purposes of mental and moral involvement.
Especially is this true of the precious golden hours of the morning.
Think, then, of the immense waste in a year! At twelve hours a
day, more than a million of years of valuable time are wasted
annually in the United States.
I have hitherto made my estimates on the supposition that we do
not sleep to much, in the aggregate, and that the only loss sustained
arises from the manner of procuring it. But suppose, once more,
we sleep an hour too much daily. This involves a waste just twice
as great as that which we have already estimtated.
Do you startle at these estimates! It is proper that many of you
should. You have mispent time enough. Awake your 'drowsy souls,'
and shake off your stupid habits. Think of Napoleon breaking up
the boundaries of kingdoms, and dethroning kings, and to accomplish
these results, going through with an amount of mental and bodily
labor that few constitutions would be equal to, with only four
hours of sleep in twenty-four. Think of Brougham too, who works
as many hours, perhaps, as any man in England, and has as much
influence, and yet sleeps very few; i.e., only four. A hundred
persons might be named, and the list would include some of the
greatest benefactors of their race, who never think of sleeping
more than six hours a day. And yet many of you are scarcely contented
with eight!
Would you conquer as Bonaparte did ---- not states, provinces,
and empires , --- but would you aspire to the high honor of conquering
yourselves, and of extending your conquests intellectually and
morally, you must take the necessary steps. The path is a plain
one; requiring nothing but a little moral courage. 'What man has
done, man may do.' I know you do not and ought not aspire to conquer
kingdoms, or to become prime ministers; but you ought to aspire
to get victory over yourselves: ---- a victory as much more noble
than those of Napoleon, and Caesar, and Alexander, as intellectual
and moral influence are superior to mere brute force.
SECTION VII. On Duty to Parents .
It was the opinion of a very eminent and observing man, that those
who are obedient to parents, are more healthy, long lived, and
happy than those who are disobedient. And he reasons very fairly
on the subject.
No I do not know whether the promise annexed to the fifth command,
(whatever might have been intended, as addressed to the Jews,)
has any special reference to happiness in this life. I only know
that in general, those who are obedient to parents are apt to
be virtuous in other respects; for the virtues as well as the
vices usually go in companies. But that virtue in general tends
to long life and happiness, nobody will entertain a doubt.
I am sorry, however, to find that the young, when they approach
adult years, are apt to regard authority as irksome. It should
not be so. So long as they remain under the parental roof, they
ought to feel it a pleasure to conform to the wishes of the parent
is all the arraignments of the the family, if not absolutely unreasonable.
And even in the latter case, it is my own opinion --- and one
which has not been hastily formed, either --- that it would be
better to submit, with cheerfulness; and for three reasons.
1st. For the sake of your own reputation; which will always be
endangered by disobedience, however unjust the parental claim
may be.
2d. From a love of your parents, and a sense of what you owe them
from their kind care; together with a conviction that perfect
rectitude is not to be expected. You will find error, more or
less, everywhere around you --- even in yourselves; why should
you expecte perfection in your parents?
3d. Because it is better to suffer wrong than to do wrong. Perhaps
there is nothing which so improves human character, as suffering
wrongfully; although the world may be slow to admit the principle.
More than this; God himself has said a great deal about obedience
to parents.
If real evils multiply so that a young man finds he cannot remain
in his father's house, without suffering not only in his feelings,
but permanently in his temper and disposition, I will not say
that it is never best to leave it. I do not believe, however,
there is often any such necessity. Of those who leave their paternal
home on this plea, I believe nine-hundred and ninety-nine in a
thousand might profitably remain, if they would; and that a very
large number would find the fault in themselves --- in their own
temper, disposition or mistaken views --- rather than in their
parents.
And what is to be gained by going away? Unfortunately this is
a question too seldom asked by restless, or headstrong youths;
and when asked and answered, it is usually found that their unhappy
experience proves the answer to have been incorrect.
I have seldom known a youth turn out well who left his parents
or his guardian or master. On thi subject, Franklin, I know, is
often triumphantly referred to; but for one such instance as that,
I hazard nothing in saying there are hundreds of a contrary character.
Within the circle of my own observation, young men who leave in
this manner, have wished themselves back again a thousand times.
But be this as it may, so long as you remain in the family, if
you are 70 years of age, by all means yield to authority implicitly,
and if possible, cheerfully. Avoid, at least, altercation and
reproaches. If things do not go well, fix your eye upon some great
example of suffering wrongfully, and endeavor to profit by it.
There is no sight more attractive than that of a well ordered
family; one in which every child, whether five years old or fifty,
submits cheerfully to those rules and regulations which parental
authority has thought fit to impose. It is, to use a strong expression,
the image of heaven. But, exactly in the same proportion, a family
of the contrary character resembles the regions below.
Nor is this all. It is an ancient maxim, --- and however despised
by some of the moderns, none can be more true, --- that he only
is fit to command who has first learned to obey. Obedience, is,
in fact, the great lesson of human life. We first learn to yield
our will to the dicates of parental
love and wisdom. Through them we learn to yield submissively to
the great laws of the Creator, as established in the material
world. We learn to avoid, if possible, the flame, the hail, the
severity of the cold, the lightning, the tornado, and the earthquake;
and we do not choose to fall from a precipice, to have a heavy
body fall on us, to receive vitriol or arsenic into our stomachs,
(at least in health) or to remain a very long time, immersed in
water, or buried in the earth. We submit also to the government
under which we live. All these are lessons of obedience. But the
Christian goes farther; and it is his purpose to obey not only
all these laws, but any additional ones he may find imposed, whether
they pertain to material or immaterial existences.
In short, he who would put himself in the most easy position,
in the sphere allotted him by the Author of Nature, must learn
to obey, --- often implicitly and unconditionally. At least he
must know how to obey: and the earlier this knowledge is acquired,
and corresponding habits established, the better and happier will
he find his condition, and the more quiet his conscience.
SECTION VIII. Faithfulness .
Hardly any thing pleases me more in a young man, than faithfullness
to those for whom he is employed, whether parents, guardians,
masters, or others.
There appears to be a strange misapprehension, in the minds of
many, in regard to this point. There are few who will not admit,
in theory, whatever may be their practice, that they ought to
be faithful to their parents. And by far the majority of the young
doubtless perceive the propriety of being faithful to their masters;
so long, at least, as they are present. I will even go farther
and admit that the number of young men --- sons, wards, apprentices,
and servants --- who would willingly be so far unfaithful as to
do any thing positively wrong because those who are set over them
happen to be absent, is by no means considerable.
But by faitfulness to our employers, I mean something more than
the mere doing of things because we are obliged to do them, or
because we must. I wish to see young men feel an interest in the
well being and success of their employers; and take as good care
of their concerns and property, whether they are present or absent,
as if they were their own. The youth who would be more industrious,
perservering, prudent, economical, and attentive in business,
if the profits were his own, than he now is, does not in my opinion
come up to the mark at which he should aim.
The great apology for what I call unfaithfulness to employers,
is, 'What shall I get by it?' that is, by being faithful. I have
seen so many a young man who would labor at the employment regularly
assigned him, during a certain number of hours, or till a certain
job was completed, after which he seemed unwilling to lift a finger,
except for his own amusement, gratification, or emolument. A few
minutes' labor might repair a breach in a wall or corn crib, and
save the owner many dollars worth of property, but it is passed
by! By putting a few deranged parcel of goods in their proper
place, or writing down some small item of account, which would
save his employer much loss of time or money, or both, a faithfull
clerk might often do a great service. Would he not do it, if the
loss was to be his own? Why not then do it for his employer?
Those who neglect things, or perform them lazily or carelessly,
because they imagine they shall get nothing for it, would do well
to read the following story of a devoted and faithful domestic;
which I suppose to be a fact. It needs no comment.
A Mahratta Prince, in passing through a certain apartment, one
day, discovered one of his servants asleep with his master's slippers
clasped so tightly to his breast, that he was unable to disengage
them. Struck with the fact, and concluding at once, that a person
who was so jealously careful of a trifle, could not fail to be
faithful when entrusted with a thing of more importance, he appointed
him a member of his body-guards. The result proved that the prince
was not mistaken. Rising in office, step by step, the young man
soon became the most distinguished military commander in Mahratta;
and his fame ultimately spread through all India.
SECTION IX. On Forming Temperate Habits .
'Be temperate in all things,' is an excellent rule, and of very
high authority.
Drunkenness and Gluttony are vices so degrading, that advice is,
I must confess, nearly lost on those who are capable of indulging
in them. If any youth, unhappily initiated in these odious and
debasing vices, should happen to see what I am now writing, I
beg him to read the command of God, to the Israelites, Deut. xxi.
The father and mother are to take the bad son 'and bring him to
the elders of the city; and they shall say to the elders, this
our son will not obey our voice: he is a glutton and a drunkard.
And all the men of the icty shall stone him with stones, that
he die.' This will give him some idea of the odiousness of his
crime, at least in the sight of Heaven.
But indulgence far short of gross drunkenness and gluttony is
to be deprecated: and the more so, because it is too often looked
upon as being no crime at all. Nay, there are many more persons,
who boast of a refined taste in matters connected with eating
and drinking, who are so far from being ashamed of employing their
thoughts on the subject, that it is their boast that they do it.
Gregory, one of the Christian fathers, says: 'It is not the quantity
or the quality of the meat, or drink, but the love of it, that
is condemned:' that is to say, the indulgence beyond the absolute
demands of nature; the hankering after it; the neglect of some
duty or other for the sake of the enjoyments of the table. I believe,
however, there may be error, both in quantity and quality.
This love of what are called 'good eating and drinking,' if very
unamiable in grown persons, is perfectly hateful in a youth; and,
if he indulge in the propensity, he is already half ruined. To
warn you against acts of fraud, robbery, and violence, is not
here my design. Neither am I speaking against acts which the jailor
and the hangman punish, nor against those moral offences which
all men condemn, but against indulgences, which, by men in general,
are deemed not only harmless, but meritorious; but which observation
has taught me to regard as destructive to human happiness; and
against which all ought to be cautioned, even in their boyish
days.
Such indulgences are, in the first place, very expensive. The
materials are costly, and the preparation even more so. What a
monstrous thing, that, in order to satisfy the appetite of one
person there must be one or two others at work constantly.[footnoted: *I have occasionally seen four or five persons in constant
employ, solely to supply the wants of a family of the same number,
whose health, collectively, required an amount of physical labor
adequate to their own wants.] More fuel, culinary implements, kitchen room: what! all these
merely to tickle the palate of four or five people, and especially
people who can hardly pay their bills! And, then, the loss of
time --- the time spent in pleasing the palate!
"A young man," says an English writer, "some years ago, offered
himself to me, as an amanuensis, for which he appeared to be perfectly
qualified. The terms were settled, and I requested him to sit
down, and begin; but looking out of the window, whence he could
see the church clock, he said, somewhat hastily, 'I cannot stop
now sir, I must go to dinner.' 'Oh!' said I, 'you must go to dinner,
must you! Let the dinner, which you must wait upon to-day, have
your constant services, then; for you and I shall never agree.'
"He had told me that he was in great distress for want of employment;
and yet, when relief was there before his eyes, he could forego
it for the sake of getting at his eating and drinking three or
four hours sooner than was necessary."
This anecdote is good, so far as it shows the folly of an unwillingness
to deny ourselves in small matters, in any circumstances. And
yet punctuality, even at meals, is not to be despised.
Water-drinkers are universally laughed at: but, it has always
seemed to me, that they are amongst the most welcome of guests,
and that, too, though the host be by no means of a niggardly turn.
The truth is, they give no trouble; they occasion no anxiety to
please them; they are sure not to make their sittings inconveniently
long; and, above all, their example teaches moderation to the
rest of the company.
Your notorious 'lovers of good cheer' are, on the contrary, not
to be invited without due reflection . To entertain one of them is a serious business; and as people
are not apt voluntarily to undertake such pieces of business,
the well-known 'lovers of good eating and drinking' are left,
very generally, to enjoy it by themselves, and at their own expense.
But, all other considerations aside, health, one of the most valuable
of earthly possessions, and without which all the rest are worth
nothing, bids us not only to refrain from excess in eating and
drinking, but to stop short of what might be indulged in without
any apparent impropriety.
The words of ECCLEIASTICUS ought to be often read by young people.
'Eat modestly that which is set before thee, and devour not, lest
thou be hated. When thou sittest amongst many, reach not thine
hand out first of all. How little is sufficient for a man well
taught! A wholesome sleep cometh of a temperate belly. Such a
man riseth up in the morning, and is well at ease with himself.
Be not too hasty of meats; for excess of meats bringeth sickness,
and choleric disease cometh of gluttony. By surfeit have many
perished, and he that dieteth himself prolongeth his life. Show
not thy valientness in wine; for wine hath destroyed many.'
How true are these words! How well worthy of a constant place
in our memories! Yet, what pains have been taken to apologize
for a life contrary to these precepts! And, what punishment can
be too great, what mark of infamy sufficiently signal, for those
pernicious villians of talent, who have employed that talent in
the composition of Bacchanalian songs; that is to say, pieces
of fine and captivating writing in praise of the most odius and
destructive vices in the black catalogue of human depravity!
(well, so much for beer commercials...)
'Who,' says the eccentric, but laborious Cobbett, 'what man, ever
performed a greater quantity of labor than I have performed? Now,
in a great measure, I owe my capability to perform this labor
to my disregard of dainties. I ate, during one whole year, one
mutton chop every day. Being once in town, with one son (then
a little boy) and a clerk, while my family was in the country,
I had, for several weeks, nothing but legs of mutton. The first
day, a leg of mutton boiled or roasted; second, cold; third, hashed;
then leg of mutton boiled; and so on.
'When I have been by myself, or nearly so, I have always proceeded
thus: given directions for having every day the same thing, or
alternately as above, and every day exactly at the same hour,
so as to prevent the ncessity of any talk about the matter. I
am certain that, upon an average, I have not, during my life,
spent more than thirty-five minutes a day at table, including
all the meals of the day. I like, and I take care to have, good
and clean victuals; but, if wholesome and clean, that is enough.
If I find it, by chance, too coarse for my appetite, I put the
food aside, or let somebody do it; and leave the appetite to gather
keenness.'
Now I have no special desire to recommend mutton chops to by readers,
nor to hold out the example of the individual whose language I
have quoted, as worthy of general imiation. There is one lesson
to be learned, however. Cobbett's never tiring industry is well
known. And if we can rely on his own statements in regard to his
manner of eating, we see another proof that what are called 'dainties,'
and even many things which are often supposed to be necessaries,
are very far from being indispensable to health or happiness.
(so how long did Cobbet live?)
I am even utterly opposed to the rapid eating of which he speaks.
In New England especially, the danger is on the other side. 'Were
it not from respect to others, I would never wish for more than
eight minutes to eat my dinner in,' said a merchant to me one
day. Now I can swallow a meal at any time, in five minutes; but
this is not eating. It it is, the teeth were made --- as well
as the saliva --- almost in vain. No! this swallowing down a meal
in five or even ten minutes, so common among the active, enterprising,
and industrious people of this country, is neither healthy, nor
decent, nor economical. And instead of spending only thirty-five
minutes a day in eating; every man, woman and child ought, as
a matter of duty, to spend about twice the time in that way. This
would give the teeth and salivary glands an opportunity to come
up to the work which God in nature assigned them. We may indeed
cheat them for a time, but no with impunity, for a day of reckoning
will come; and some of our rapid eaters will find their bill (in
stomach or liver complaints, or gout and rheumatism) rather large.
They will probably lose more time in this way, than they can possible
save by eating rapidly.
The idea of preventing conversation about what we eat is also
idle, although Dr. Franklin and many other wise men, thought otherwise.
Some of our students in commons and elsewhere, suppose themselves
highly meritorious because they have adopted the plan of appointing
one of their number to read to the company, while the read are
eating. But they are sadly mistaken. Nothing is gained by the
practice. On the contrary, much is lost by it. The bow cannot
always remain bent, without injury. Neither can the mind always
be kept 'toned' to a high pitch. Mind and body must and will have
their relaxations.
I am not an advocate for wasting time or for eating more than
is necessary. Nay, I even believe, on the contrary, with most
medical men, that we generally eat about tiwce as much as nature
requires. But I do say, and with emphasis, that food must be masticated.
Before I dismiss the subject of temperance, let me beseech you
to resolve to free yourselves from slavery to tea and coffee.
Experience has taught me, that they are injurious to health. Even
my habits of sobriety, moderate eating, and early rising, were
not, until I left off using them, sufficient to give me that complete
health which I have since had.
I do not undertake to prescribe for others exactly; but, I do
say, that to pour down regularly, every day, a quart or two of
warm liquid, whether under the name of tea, coffee, soup, grog,
or anything else, is greatly injurious to health. However, at
present, what I have to represent to you, is the great deduction
which they make, from your power of being useful, and also from
your power to husband your income, whatever it may be, and from
whatever source arising. These things cost something; and wo to
him who forgets, or never knows, till he pays it, how large a
bill they make --- in the course of a year.
How much to be desired is it, that mankind would return once more,
to the use of no other drink than that pure beverage which nature
prepared for the sole drink of man! So long as we are in health,
we need no other; nay, we have no right to any other. It is the
testimony of all, or almost all whose testimony is worth having,
that water is the best known drink. But if water is better than
all others, all others are, of course, worse than water.
As to food and drink generally, let me say in conclusion, that
simplicity is the grand point to aim at. Water, we have seen,
is the sole drink of man; but there is a great variety of food
provided for his sustenance. He is allowed to select from this
immense variety, thsoe kinds, which the experience of mankind
generally, combined with his own, show to be most useful. He can
live on almost anything. Still there is a choice to be observed,
and so far as his circumstances permit, he is in duty bound to
exercise that choice. God has said by his servant Paul; 'Whether
ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do,' &c.
What we believe to be most useful to us, though at first disagreeable,
we may soon learn to prefer. Our habits, then, should be early
formed. We should always remember these two rules, however. 1st.
The fewer different articles of food used at any one meal, the
better; however excellent in their nature those may be which are
left untasted. 2nd. Never eat a moment longer than the food, if
well masticated, actually revives and refreshes you. The moment
it makes you feel heavy or dull, or palls upon the taste, you
have passed the line of safety.
SECTION X. On Suppers .
Suppers, properly so called, are confined, in a considerable degree,
to cities; and I was at first in doubt whether I should do as
much good by giving my voice against them, as I should of mischief
by spreading through the country the knowledge of a wretched practice.
But farther reflection has convinced me that I ought to offer
my sentiments on this subject.
By suppers, I mean a fourth meal, just before going to bed. Individuals
who have eaten quite as many times during the day as nature requires,
and who take theri tea, and perhaps a little bread and butter,
at six, must go at nine or ten, they think, and eat another hearty
meal. Some make it the must luxurious repast of the day.
Now many of our plain country people do not know that such a practice
exists. The often eat too much, it is true, at their third meal,
but their active habits and pure air enable them to digest it
better than their city brethren could. Besides, their third meal
never comes so late, by several hours, as the suppers of cities
and towns.
Our English ancestors, 200 years ago, on both sides of the Atlantic,
dined at eleven, took tea early, and had no suppers. So it was
with the Jews of old, one of the healthiest nations that ever
lived beyond the Mediterranean. They knew nothing of our modern
dinners at three or four, and suppers at nine, ten, or eleven.
But not to 'take something late at night with the rest,' would
at present be regarded as 'vulgar,' and who could endure it? Here,
I confess, I tremble for some of my readers, whose lot it is to
be cast in the city, lest they should, in this single instance,
hesitate to 'take advice.' But I will hope for better things.
If you would give your stomach a season of repose, as well as
the rest of your system; if you would sleep soundly, and either
dream not at all, or have your dreams pleasant ones; if you would
rise in the morning with your head clear, and free from pain,
and your mouth clean and sweet, instead of being parched, and
foul; if you would unite your voice --- in spirit at least ---
with the voices of praise to the Creator, which ascend everywhere
unless it be from the dwellings of creatures that should be men,
--- if, in one word, you would lengthen your lives by several
years, and increase the enjoyment of the last thirty years 33
per cent. without diminishing that of the first forty, then I
beg of you to abstain from suppers!
I am acquainted with one individual, who partly from a conviction
of the injury to himself, and partly from a general detestation
of the practice, not only abstains from every thing of the kind,
but from long observation of its effects, goes to the other extreme,
and seldom takes even a third meal. And I know of no evil which
arises from it. On the contrary, I believe that, for him, no course
could be better. Be that as it may, adult individuals should never
eat more than three times a day, nor should they ever partake
of any food, solid or liquid, within three or four hours of the
period of retiring to rest.
But if eating ordinary suppers is pernicious, what shall we say
of the practice which some indulge who aspire to be pillars in
church or state, with others of pretensions less lofty, of going
to certain eating houses, at a very late hour, and spending a
considerable portion of the night --- not in eating, merely, but
in quaffing poisionous draughts, and spreading noxious fumes,
and uttering language and songs which better become the inmates
of Pandemonium*, than those of the counting-house, the college,
or the chapel! If there be within the limits of any of our cities
or towns, scenes which answer to this horrid picture, let 'it
not be told in Gath, or published in the streets of Askelon,'
lest the fiends of the pit should rejoice; -- lest the demons
of darkness should triumph.
SECTION XI. On Dress .
The object of dress is fourfold: 1st. It is designed as a covering;
2d. As a means of warmth; 3d. As a defence; 4th. To improve our
appearance.
These purposes of dress should all be considered; and in the order
here presented. That dress, which best answers all these purposes
combined, both as respects the material and the form or fashion,
is unquestionably the best and most appropriate. It is certainly
true that the impressions which a person's first appearance makes
upon the minds of those around him are deep and permanent,
SECTION XII. Bashfulness and Modesty .
Dr. Young says, 'The man that blushes is not quite a brute.' This
is undoubtedly true; yet nothing is more clear, as Addison has
shown us, than a person may be both bashful and impudent.
I know the world commend the former quality, and condemn the latter;
but I deem them both evils. Perhaps the latter is the greater
of the two. The proper medium is true modesty. This is always
commendable.
We are compelled to take the world, in a great measure, as it
is. We can hardly expect men to come as buy our wares, unless
we advertise or expose them for sale. So if we would commend ourselves
to the noice of our fellow men, we must set ourselves up, ---
not for something which we are not; -- but for what, upon careful
examination, we find reason to think we are. Many a good and valuable
man has gone through this life, without being properly estimated;
from the vain belief that true merit could not always escape unnoticed.
This belief, after all, is little else but a species of fatalism.
By setting ourselves up, I do not mean puffing and pretending,
or putting on airs of haughtiness or arrogance; or any affectation
whatever. But there are those --- as some of them are persons
of good sense, in many respects, who can scarcely answer properly,
when addressed, or look the person with whom they are conversing
in the face; and who often render themeselves ridiculous for fear
they shall be so. I have seen a man of respectable talents, who,
in conversation never raised his eyes higher than the tassels
of his friend's boots; and another who could never converse without
turning half or three-quarters round, so as to present his shoulder
or the backside of his head, instead of a plain, honest face.
I have known young men injured by bashfulness. It is vain to say
that it should not be so. The world is not what it should be,
in many respects; and I must insist taht it is our duty, to take
it as it is, in order to make it better, or even in order to live
in it with comfort. He that thinks hh shall not, most surely will
not, please. A man of sense, and knowledge of this world, will
assert his own rights, and pursue his own purposes as steadily
and uninterruptedly as the most impudent man living; but then
there is at the same time an aire of modesty in all he does; while
an overbearing or impudent manner of doing the same things, would
undoubtedly have given offense. Hence a certain wise man has said;
'He who knows himself will never be impudent.'
Perpetual embarrassment in company or in conversation, is sometimes
even construed into meanness. Avoid, --- if you can do it, without
too great a sacrifice --- every appearance of deserving a charge
so weighty.
SECTION XIII. Politeness and Good-Breeding .
Awkwardness is scarcely more tolerable than bashfulness. It must
proceed from ne of two things; either from not having kept good
company, or from not having derived any benefit from it. Many
very worthy people have certain odd tricks, and ill habits, that
excite a prejudice against them, which is not easy to overcome.
Hence the importance of good breeding.
Now there are not a few who despise all these little things of
life, as they call them; and yet much of their lives is taken
up with them, small as they are. And since these self same little
things cannot be dispensed with, it it not better that they should
be done in the easiest, and at the same time the pleasantest manner
possible?
There is no habit more difficult to attain, and few so necessary
to possess, as perfect good-breeding. It is equally inconsistent
with a stiff formality, and impertinent forwardness, and an awkward
bashfulness. True Christian education would seem to include it,
and yet unfortunately, Christians are not always polite.
Is it not surprising that we may sometimes observe, in mere men
of the world, that kind of carriage which should naturally be
expected from an individual thoroughly imbued with the spirit
of Christianity, while his very neighbors, who are professing
Christians, appear, by their conduct, to be destitute of such
a spirit? Which, then, in practice (I mean so far as fact is concerned)
are the best Christians? But I know what will be the answer; and
I know that these things ought not so to be.
No good reasons can be given why a Christian should not be as
well-bred as his neighbor. It is difficult to conceive how a person
can follow the rules given in the Sermon on the Mount, without
being, and showing himself to be, well-bred. I have even known
men who were no friends to the bible, to declare it as their unequivocal
belief that he whose life should conform to the principles of
that sermon, could not avoid being truly polite.
There are not a few who confound good-breeding with affectations,
just as they confound a reasonable attention to dress with foppery.
This calling things by wrong names is very common, how much soever
it may be lamented.
Good-breeding, or true politeness, is the art of showing men,
by external signs, the internal regard we have for them. It arises
from good sense, improved by good company. Good-breeding is never
to be learned, though it may be improved, by the study of books;
and therefore they who attempt it, appear stiff and pedantic.
The really well-bred, as they become so by use and by observation,
are not
liable to affectation. You see good breeding in all they do, without
seeing the art of it. Like other habits, it is acquired by practice.
An engaging manner and genteel address may be out of our power,
although it is a misfortune that it should be so. But it is in
the power of every body to be kind, condescending, and affable.
It is in the power of every person who has any thing to say to
a fellow being, to say it with kind feelings, and with a sincere
desire to please; and this, whenever it is done, will atone for
much awkwardness in the manner of expression. Forced complaisance
is foppery; and affected easiness is ridiculous.
Good-breeding is, and ought to be, an amiable and persuasive thing;
it beautifies the actions and even the looks of men. But the grimace
of good-breeding is not less odious.
In short, good-breeding is a forgetting of ourselves so far as
to seek what may be aggreeable to others, but in so artless and
delicate a manner as will scarcely allow them to perceive that
we are so employed; and the regarding of ourselves, not as the
centre of motion on which everything else is to revolve, but only
as one of the wheels or parts, in a vast machine, embracing other
wheels and parts of equal, and perhaps more than equal importance.
It is hence utterly opposed to selfishness, vanity, or pride.
Nor is it proportioned to the supposed riches and rank of him
whose favor and patronage you would gladly cultivate; but extends
to all. It knows how to contradict with respect; and to please,
without adulation.
The following are a few plain directions for attaining the character
of a well-bred man.
SECTION XIV. Personal Habits .
I have elsewhere spoken of the importance of early rising. Let
me merely request you, in this place, to form a habit of this
kind, from which no ordinary circumstances shall suffer you to
depart. Your first object after rising and devotion, should be
to take a survey of the business which lies before you during
the day, making of course a suitable allowance for exigencies.
I have seldom known a man in business thrive --- and men of business
we all ought to be, whatever may be our occupation --- who did
not rise early in the morning, and plan his work for the day.
Some of those who have been most successful, made it a point to
have this done before daylight. Indeed, I was intimately aquainted
with one man who laid out the business of the day, attended family
worship, and breakfasted before sunrise; and this too, at all
seasons of the year.
Morning gowns and slippers are very useful things, it is said.
But the reasons given for their utility are equally in favor of
always wearing them. 'They are loose and comfortable.' Very well;
Should not our other dress always be loose? 'They save other clothes.'
They why not wear them all day long? The truth, after all, is,
that they are fashionable, and as we usually give the true reason
for a thing last, this is probably the principle reason why they
are so much in use. I am pretty well convinced, however, that
they are of little real use to him who is determined to eat his
bread 'in the sweat of his face,' according to the Divine appointment.
Looking glasses are useful in their place, but like many other
conveniences of life, by no means indispensable; and so much abused,
that a man of sense would almost be tempted, for the sake of example,
to lay them aside. Of all wasted time, none is more foolishly
wasted than that which is employed in unnecessary looking at one's
own pretty face.
This may seem a matter of small consequence; but nothing can be
of small importance to which we are obligated to attend every
day. If we dressed or shaved but once a year, or once a month,
the case would be altered; but this is a piece of work that must
be done once every day; and, as it may cost only about five minutes
of time, and may be, and frequently is, made to cost thirty, or
even fifty, minutes; and, as only fifteen minutes make about a
fiftieth part of the hours of our average day-light; this being
the case, it is a matter of real importance.
Sir JOHN SINCLAIR asked a friend whether he meant to have a son
of his (then a little boy) taught Lating? 'No,' said he, 'but
I mean to do something a great deal better for him.' 'What is
that?' said Sir John. 'Why,' said the other, 'I mean to teach
him to shave with cold water, and without a glass.'
My readers may smile, but I can assure them that Sir John is not
alone. There are many others who have adopted this practice, and
found it highly beneficial. One individual, who had tried it for
years, has the following spirited remarks on the subject.
'Only think of the inconvenience attending the common practice!
There must be hot water; to have this there must be a fire, and,
in some cases, a fire for that purpose alone; to have these, there
must be a servant, or you must light a fire yourself. For the
want of these, the job is put off until a later hour: this causes
a stripping and another dressing bout: or, you go in a slovenly
state all that day, and teh next day the thing must be done, or
cleanliness must be abandoned altogether. If you are on a journey,
you must wait the pleasure of the servants at the inn before you
can dress and set out in the morning; the pleasant time for travelling
is gone before you can move from the spot: instead of being at
the end of your day's journey in good time, you are benighted,
and ahve to endure all the great inconveniences attendant on tardy
movements. And all this from the apparently insignificant affair
of shaving. How many a piece of important business has failed
from a short delay! And how many thousand of such delays daily
porceed from this unworthy cause!'
These remarks are especially important to those persons in boarding-houses
and elsewhere, for whom hot water, if they use it, must be expressly
prepared.
Le me urge you never to say I cannot go, or do such a thing, till
I am shaved or dressed. Take care always to BE shaved and dressed,
and tehn you will always be ready to act. But to this end the
habit muyst be formed in early life, and pertinaciously adhered
to.
There are those who can truly say that to the habit of adhering
to the principles which have been laid down, they owe much of
their success in life; that however sober, discreet, and abstinent
they might have been, they never could have accomplished much
without it. We should suppose
by reasoning beforehand, that the army could not be very favorable
to steady habits of this or any kind; yet the following is the
testimony of one who had made the trial.
'To the habit of early rising and husbanding my time well, more
than to any other thing, I owed my very extraordinary promotion
in the army. I was always ready. If I had to mount guard at ten,
I was ready at nine: never did any man, or any thing, wait one
moment for me. Being, at an age under twenty years, raised from
corporal to sergeant major at once, over the heads of thirty sergeants,
I should naturally have been an object of envy and hatred; but
this habit of early rising really subdued these passions.
'Before my promotion, a clery was wanted to make out the morning
report of the regiment. I rendered the clerk unnecessary; and,
long before any other man was dressed for the parade, my work
for the morning was done, and I myself was on the parade ground,
walking, in fine weather, for an hour perhaps.
'My custom was this: to get up, in summer, at daylight, and in
winter at four o'clock; shave, dress, even to the putting on of
my sword-belt over my shoulder, and having my sword lying on the
table before me, ready to hang by my side. Then I ate a bit of
cheese, or pork, and bread. Then I prepared my report, which was
filled up as fast as the companies brought me in the materials.
After this, I had an hour or two to read, before the time came
fro any duty out of doors, unless when the regiment, or part of
it, went out to excercise in the morning. When this was the case,
and the matter was left to me, I always has it on the ground in
such a time as that the bayonets glistened in the rising sun;
a sight which gave me delight, of which I often think, but which
I should in vain endeavor to describe.
'If the officers were to go out, eight or ten o'clock was the
hour. Sweating men in the heat of the day, or breaking in upon
the time for cooking their dinner, puts all things out of order,
and all men out of humor. When I was commander, the men had a
long day of leisure before them: they could ramble into town or
into the woods; go to get raspberries, to catch birds, to catch
fish, or to pursue any other recreation, and such of them as chose,
and were qualified, to work their trades. So that here, arising
solely from the early habits of one very young man, were pleasant
and happy days given to hundreds.'
For my own part, I confess that only a few years since, I should
have laughed heartily at some of these views, especially the cold
water system of shaving. But a friend whom I esteemed, and who
shaved with cold water, said so much in its favor that I ventured
to make the trial; and I can truly say taht I would not return
to my former slavery to hot water, if I had a servant who had
nothing
else to do but furnish it. I cannot indeed say with a recent writer
( I think in the Journal of Health) that cold water is a great
deal better than warm; but I can and do say that it makes little
if any difference with me which I use; though on going out into
the cold air immediately afterward, the skin is more likely to
chap after the use of warm water than cold. Besides I think the
use of warm water more likely to produce eruptions on the skin.
--- Sometimes, though not generally, I shave, like Sir John Sinclair,
without a glass; but I would never be enslaved to one, convenient
as it is.
SECTION XV. Bathing and Cleanliness .
Cleanliness of the body has, some how or other, such a connection
with mental and morl purity, (whether cause or effect --- or both
--- I will not undertake now to determine) that I am unwilling
to omit the present opportunity of urging its importance. There
are those who are so attentive to this subject as to wash their
whole bodies in water, either cold or warm, every day, and never
to wear the same clothes, during the day, that they have slept
in the previous night. Now this habit my by some be called whimsical;
but I think it deserves a better name. I consider this extreme,
if it ought to be called an extreme, as vastly more safe than
the common extreme of neglect.
Is it not shameful --- would it not be, were human duty properly
understood --- to pass months, and even years, without washign
(sic) the whole body once? There are thousands and tens of thousands
of both sexes, who are exceedingly nice, even to fatidiousness,
about externals, -- who, like those mentioned in the gosple, keep
the 'outside of the cup and the platter,' -- but alas! how is
it within? Not a few of us, -- living, as we do, in a land where
soap and water are abundant and cheap -- would blush, if the whole
story were told.
This chapter, if extended so far as to embrace the whole subject
of cleanliness of person, dress, and apartments, and cold and
warm bathing, would alone fill a volume; a volume too, which,
if well prepared, would be of great value, especially to all young
men. But my present limits do not permit of any thing farther.
In regard to cold bathing, however, allow me to refer you to two
articles in the third volume of the Annals of Education, pages
315 and 344, which contain the best directions I can give on this
subject.
SECTION XVI. On Little Things.
There are many things which, viewed without any reference to prevailing
habits, manners, and customs, appear utterly unworthy of attention;
and yet, after all, much of our happiness will be found to depend
on them. We are to remember that we live -- not alone, on the
earth -- but among
a multitude, each of whom claims, and is entitled to his own estimate
of things. Now it often happens that what we deem a little thing,
another, who views the subject differently, will regard as a matter
of importance.
Among the items to which I refer, are many of the customary salutations
and civilities of life; and the modes of dress. Now it is perfectly
obvious that many common phrases which are used at meeting and
separating, during the ordinary interviews and concerns of life,
as well as in correspondance, are in themselves wholly unmeaning.
But viewed as an introduction to things of more importance, these
little words and phrases at the opening of a conversation, and
as the language of hourly and daily salutation, are certainly
useful. They are indications of good and friendly feeling; and
without them we should not, and could not, secure the confidence
of some of those among whom we are obliged to live. They would
regard us as not only unsocial, but selfish; and not only selfish,
but proud or misanthropic.
On account of meeting with much that disgusts us, many are tempted
to avoid society generally. The frivolous conversation, and still
more frivolous conduct, which they meet with, they regard as a
waste of time, and perhaps even deem it a duty to resign themselves
to solitude. This, however, is a great mistake. Those who have
been most useful to mankind acted very differently. They mingled
with the world, in hopes to do something towards reforming it.
The greatest of philosophers, as well as Christians; --- even
the FOUNDER of Christianity himself --- sat down, and not only
sat down, but ate and drank in the society of those with whose
manners, and especially whose vices, he could have had no possible
sympathy.
Zimmerman, who has generally been regarded as an apostle of solitude,
taught that men ought not to 'reside in deserts, or sleep, like
owls, in the hollow trunks of trees.' 'I sincerely exhort my disciples,'
says he, ' not to absent themselves morosely from public places,
nor to avoid the social throng; which cannot fail to afford to
judicious, rational, and feeling minds, many subjects both of
amusement and instruction. It is true, that we cannot relish the
pleasures and taste the advantages of society, without being able
to give a patient hearing to the tongue of folly, to excuse error,
and to bear with infirmity.'
In like manner, we are not to disregard wholly, our dress. It
is true that the shape of a hat, or the cut of a coat may not
add to the strength of the mind, or the soundness of the morals;
but it is also true that people form an opinion of us from our
exteriour appearance; and will continue to do so; and first impressions
are very difficult to overcome. If we regard our own usefulness,
therefore, we shall not consider the fashion or character of our
dress as a little thing in its results. I have said elsewhere
that we ought neither to be the first nor the last in a fashion.
We should remember, also, that the world, in its various parts
and aspects, is made up of little things. So true is this, that
I have sometimes been very fond of the paradoxical remark, that
'little things are great things;' that is, in their results. For
who does not know that throughout the physical world, the mightiest
results are brought about by the silent working of small causes?
It is not the tornado, or the deluge, or even the occasional storm
of rain, that renews and animates nature, so much as the gentle
breeze, the soft refreshing shower, and the still softer and gentler
dews of heaven.
So, in human life, generally, they are the little things often,
that produce the mightiest results. It is he who takes care of
pence and farthings, not he who neglects them, that thrives. It
is he alone who guards his lips against the first improper word,
--- trifling as it may seem ---that is secure against future profanity.
He who indulges one little draught of alcoholic drink, is in danger
of ending a tippler; he who gives loose to one impure thought,
of ending the victim of lust and sensuality. Nor is it one single
gross, or as it were accidental act, viewed as insulated from
the rest --- however injurious it may be --- that inures the body,
or debases the mind, so much as the frequent repetition of those
smaller errors, whose habitual occurance goes to
establish the predominating choice of the mind, or affection of
the soul.
Avoid, the, the pernicious, the fatal error, that little things
are of no consequence: little sums of money, little fragments
of time, little or trifling words, little or apparently unimportant
actions. On this subject I cannot help adopting --- and feeling
its force too, --- the language of a friend of temperance in regard
to those who think themselves perfectly secure from danger, and
are believers in the harmlessness of little things. 'I tremble,'
said he, 'for the man that does not tremble for himself.'
SECTION XVII. Of Anger, and the means of re-
straining it .
There is doubtless much difference of native temperament. One
person is easily excited, another, more slowly. But there is a
greater difference still, resulting from our habits.
If we find ourselves easily led into anger, we should be extremely
careful how we indulge the first steps that lead towards it. Those
who naturally possess a mild temper may, with considerable safety,
do and say many things which others cannot. Thus we often say
of a person who has met with a misfortune, 'It is good enough
for him;' or of a criminal who has just been condemned to suffer
punishment, 'No matter; he deserves it.' Or perhaps we go farther,
and on finding him acquitted, say, 'He ought to have been hanged,
and even hanging was too good for him.'
Now all these things, in the mouths of the irritable, lead the
way to an indulgence of anger, however unperceived may be the
transition. It is on this principle that the saying of St. John
is so strikingly true; 'He that hateth his brother is a murderer;'
that is, he that indulges hatred has the seeds within him, not
only of out-breaking anger, but of murder.
It is on this account that I regret the common course taken with
children in relation to certain samller tribes of the animal creation.
They are allowed not only to destroy them, --- (which is doubtless
often a duty,) but to destroy them in anger; to indulge a permanent
hatred towards them; and to think this hatred creditable and scriptural.
When such feeling lead us to destroy even the most troublesom
or disgusting reptiles or insects. in anger, we have so far prepared
the way for indulgence of nager towards our fellow creatures,
whenever their conduct shall excite our displeasure.
We can hence see why he who has a violent temper should always
speak in a low voice, and study mildness and sweetness in his
tones. For loud, impassioned, and boisterous tones certainly excite
impassioned feelings. So do all the actions which indicate anger.
Thus Dr. Darwin has said that any individual, by using the language
and actions of an angry person, towards an imaginary object of
displeasure, and accompanying them by threats, and blows, with
a doubled or clinched fist, may easily work himself into a rage.
Of the justice of this opinion I am fully convinced, from actual
and repeated experiments.
If we find ourselves apt to be angry, we should endeavor to avoid
the road which leads to it. The first things to be done, is to
govern our voice. On this point, the story of the Quaker and the
merchant may not be uninstructive.
A merchant in London had a dispute with a Quaker gentleman about
the settlement of an account. The merchant was determined to bring
the action into court, --- a course of proceeding to which the
Quaker was wholly opposed; --- he therefore used every argument
in his power to convince the merchant of his error; but all to
no purpose.
Desirous of making a final effort, however, the Quaker called
at the house of the merchant, one morning, and inquired of the
servant if his master was at home. The merchant hearing the inquiry
from the top of the stairs, and knowing the voice, called out
loudly, 'Tell that rascal I am not at home.' The Quaker, looking
up towards him, said calmly; 'Well friend, may God put thee in
a better mind.'
The merchant was struck with the meekness of the reply, and after
thinking more deliberately of the matter, became convinced that
the Quaker was right, and he in the wrong. He requested to see
him, and after acknowledging his error, said, 'I have one question
to ask you. How were you able to bear my abuse with so much patience?'
'Friend,' replied the Quaker, 'I will tell thee. I was naturally
as hot and violent as thou art. But I knew that to indulge my
temper was sinful, and also very foolish. I observed that men
in a passion always spoke very loud; and I thought if I could
control my voice, I should keep down my passions. I therefore
made it a rule never to let it rise above a certain key; and by
a careful observation of this rule, I have, with the blessing
of God, entirely mastered my natural temper.'
When you are tempted by the conduct of those around you, to be
angry, endeavor to consider the matter for a few moments. If your
temper be so impetuous that you find this higly difficult, you
may adopt some other plan or device for gaining time. Some recommend
counting twenty or thirty, deliberately. The following anecdote
of the celebrated Zimmerman in exactly in point, and may afford
useful hints for instruction.
Owing in part to a diseased state of body, Zimmer-man was sometimes
irritable. One day, a Russian princess and several other ladies
entered his apartment to inquire after his health; when, in a
fit of petulance, he rose, and requested them to leave the room.
The prince entered some time
afterward, when Zimmerman had begun to repent of his rashness,
and after some interveneing conversation, advised him, whenever
he felt a disposition to treat his friends so uncivilly again,
to repeat, mentally, the Lord's prayer. This advice was followed,
and with success. Not long afterward the same prince came to him
in regard to the best manner of controlling the violence of those
transports of affection towards his young and amiable consort,
in which young and happy lovers are so apt to indulge. 'My dear
friend,' said Zimmerman, 'there is no expedient which can surpass
your own. Whenever you feel yourself overborne by passion, you
have only to repeat the Lord's prayer, and you will be able to
reduce it to a steady and permanent flame.'
By adopting Zimmerman's rule, we shall, as I have already observed,
gain time for reflection, than which nothing more is needed. For
it the cause of anger be a report, for example, of injury done
us by an absent person, either in words or deeds, how do we know
the report is true? Or it may only be partly true; and how do
we know, till we consider the matter well, whether it is worth
our anger at all? Or it at all, perhaps it deserves but a little
of it. It may be, too, that the person who said or did the thing
reported, did it by mistake, or is already sorry for it. At all
events, nothing can be gained by haste; much may be by delay.
If a passionate person give you ill language, you ought rather
to pity than be angry with him, for anger is a species of disease.
And to correct one evil, will you make another? If his being angry
is an evil, will it mend the matter to make another evil, by indulging
in passion yourself? Will it cure his disease, to throw yourself
into the same distemper? But if not, then how foolish is it to
indulge improper feelings at all!
On the same principles, and for the same reasons, you should avoid
returning railing for railing; or reviling for reproach. It only
kindles the more heat. Besides, you will often find silence, or
at least gentle words, as in the case of the Quaker just mentioned,
the best return for reproaches which could be devised. I say the
best 'return;' but I would not be understood as justifying any
specied of revenge. The kind of return here spoken of is precisely
that treatment which will be most likely to cure the distemper
in the other, by making him see, and be sorry for, his passion.
If the views taken in this section be true, it is easy to see
the consummate folly of all violence, whether between individuals
or collective bodies, whether it be by striking, duelling, or
war. For if an individual or a nation has done wrong, will it
annihilate that wrong by another wrong? Is it not obvious that
it only make two evils, where but one existed before? And can
two wrongs ever make one right action? Which is the most rational,
when the choice is in our power, to add to one existing evil,
another of similar or greater magnitude; or to keep quiet, and
let the world have but one cup of misery instead of two?
Besides, the language of Scripture is every where full and decided
on this point. 'Recompense to no man evil for evil,' and 'wo to
him by whom the offence cometh,' though found but once or twice
in just so many words, are in fact, some of the more prominent
doctrines of the New Testament; and I very much doubt whether
you can read many pages, in succession, in any part of the bible,
without finding this great principle enforced. The daily example
of the Savior, and the apostles and early Christians, is a full
confirmation of it, in practice.
On the Management of Business.
-------
SECTION I. On commencing Business.
YOUNG men are usually in haste to commence business for themselves.
This is an evil, and one which appears to me to be increasing.
Let me caution my readers to be on their guard against it.
The evils of running in debt will be adverted to elsewhere. I
mention the subject in this place, because the earlier you commence
business, the greater the necessity of resorting to credit. You
may, indeed, in some employments, begin on a very small scale;
but this is attended with serious disadvantages, especially at
the present day, when you must meet with so much competition.
Perhaps a few may be furnished with capital by their friends,
or by inheritance. In the latter case they may as well use their
money, if they receive it; but I have already endeavored to show
that it is generally for the interest of young men to rely upon
their own exertions. It is extremely difficult for a person who
has ever relied on others, to act with the same energy as those
who have been thrown upon their
own resources.* To learn the art of inheriting property or receiving
large gifts, and of acting with the same energy as if left wholly
to our own resources, must be reserved, I believe, for future
and wiser generations of our race.
I repeat it, therefore, every person had better defer going into
business for himself, until he can stand entirely on his own footing.
Is it asked how he can have funds from his own resources, before
he has actually commenced business for himself? Why the thing
is perfectly easy. He has only to labor a few years in the service
of another. True it is, he may receive but moderate wages during
this time; but on the other hand, he will be subjected to little
or no risk.
Let 1000 young men, at the age of 30 years, enter into business
with a given amount of capital, all acquired by their own hard
earnings, and let them pursue their business 30 years faithfully;
that is, till they are 60 years of age. Let 1000 others commence
at the age of 20, with three times the amount of capital possessed
by the former, but at the same time either inherited, or loaned
by their friends, and let them pursue their calling till they
are 60 years of age; or for a period of 40 years. We will
* This fact, so obvious to every student of human nature, has
sometimes given rise to an opinion that orphans make their way
best in the world. So far as the business of making money is concerned,
I am not sure but this is so.
suppose the naturual talents, capacity for doing business, and
expenditures --- in fact everything, --- the same, in both cases.
Now it requires no gift of prophecy to foretell, with certainty,
that at 60 years of age a far greater proportion of the 1000,
who began at 30 and depended solely on their own exertions, will
be men of wealth, than of those who began at 20 with three times
their capital. The reason of these results is found in the very
nature of things, as I have shown both above, and in my remarks
on industry.
But these views are borne out by facts. Go into any city in the
United States, and learn the history of the men who are engaged
in active and profitable business, and are thriving in the world,
and my word for it, you will find the far greater part began in
life with nothing, and have had no resources whatever but their
own head and hands. And in no city is this fact more strikingly
verified than in Boston. On the other hand, if you make a list
of those who fail in business from year to year, and learn their
history, you will find that a very large proportion of them relied
on inheritances, credit, or some kind of foreign aid in early
life; --- and not a few begun very young.
There is no doctrine in this volume, which will be more unpopular
with it readers, than this. Not a few will, I fear, utterly disbelieve
it. They look at the exterior appearance of some young friend,
a little older than themselves, who has been lifted into business
and gone on a year or two, and all appears fair and encouraging.
They long to imitate him. Point them to a dozen others who have
gone on only a little farther, and have made shipwreck, and it
weighs nothing or next to nothing with them. They suspect mismanagement,
(which doubtless sometimes exists) and think they shall act more
wisely.
In almost every considerable shop in this country may be found
young men who have nearly served out their time as apprentices,
or perhaps have gone a little farther, even, and worked a year
or two as journeymen. They have been industrious and frugal, and
have saved a few hundred dollars. This, on the known principles
of human nature, has created a strong desire to make additions;
and the desire has increased in a greater ratio than the sum.
They are good workmen, perhaps, or if not, they generally think
so; and those who have the least merit, generally have the most
confidence in themselves. But if there be one who has merit, there
is usually in the neighborhood some hawk-eyed money dealer, who
knows that he cannot better invest his funds than in the hands
of active young men. This man will search him out, and offer to
set him up in business; and his friends, pleased to have him noticed,
give security for payment. Thus flattered, he commonly begins;
and after long patience and perseverance, he may, by chance, succeed.
But a much greater number are unsuccessful, and a few drown their
cares and perplexities in the poisoned bowl, or in debauchery;
-- perhaps both -- thus destroying their minds and souls; or,
it may be, abruptly putting an end to their own existence.
Young men are apt to reason thus with themselves. 'I am now arrived
at an age when others have commenced business and succeeded. It
is true I may not succeed; but I know of no reason why my prospects
are not as good as those of A, B, and C, to say the least. I am
certainly as good a workman, and know as well how to manage, and
attend to my own concerns, without intermeddling with those of
others. It is true my friends advise me to work as a journeyman
a few years longer; but it is a hard way of living. Besides, what
shall I learn all this while, that I do not already know? They
say i shall be improving in the practical part of my business,
if not in the theory of it. But shall I not improve while I work
for myself? Suppose I make blunders. Have not others done the
same? If I fall, I must get up again. Perhaps it will teach me
not to stumble again. The fact is, old people never think the
young know or can do any thing till they are forty years old.
I am determined to make an effort. A good opportunity offers,
and such a one may never again occur. I am confident I shall succeed.'
How often have I heard this train of reasoning pursued! But if
it were correct, how happens it that those facts exist which have
just been mentioned? More than this; why do almost all men assert
gratuitously after they have spent twenty years in their avocation,
that although they thought themselves wise when they began their
profession, they were exceedingly ignorant? Who ever met with
a man that did not feel this ignorance more sensibly after twenty
years of experience, than when he first commenced?
This self flattery and self confidence -- this ambition to be
men of business and begin to figure in the world, -- is not confined
to any particular occupation or profession of men, but is found
in all. Nor it is confined to those who object in life is pecuniary
emolument. It is perhaps equally common among those who seek their
happiness in ameliorating the condition of mankind by legislating
for them, settling their quarrels, soothing their passions, or
curing the maladies of their souls and bodies.
Perhaps the evil is not more glaring in any class of the community
than in the medical profession. There is a strong temptation to
this, in the facility with which licences and diplomas may be
obtained. Any young man who has common sense, if he can read and
write tolerably, may in some of the States, become a knight of
the lancet in three years, and follow another employment a considerable
part of the time besides. He has only to devote some of his extra
hours to the study of anatomy, surgery, and medication, recite
occasionally to a practitioner, as ignorant, almost, as himself;
hear one series of medical lectures; and procure certificates
that he has studied medicine 'three years,' including the time
of the lectures; and he will be licenced, almost of course. Then
he sallies forth to commit depredations on society at discretion;
and how many he kills is unknown. 'I take it for granted, however,'
said a President of a College, three years ago, who understood
this matter pretty well, 'that every half-educated young physician,
who succeeds at last in getting a reputable share of practice,
must have rid the world, rather prematurely, of some dozen or
twenty individuals, at the least, in order to qualify himself
for the profession.'
The evil is scarcely more tolerable, as regards young ministers,
except that the community in general have better means of knowing
when they are imposed upon by ignorance or quackery in this matter,
than in most other professions. The principal book for a student
of theology is in the hands of every individual, and he is taught
to read and understand it. The great evil which arises to students
of divinity themselves from entering their profession too early,
is the loss of health. Neither the minds nor the bodies of young
men are equal to the responsibilities of this, or indeed of any
other profession or occupation, at 20, and rarely at 25. Nothing
is more evident than that young men, generally, are losers in
the end, both in a pecuniary point of view and in regard to health,
by commencing business before 30 years of age. But this I have
already attempted to show.
As regards candidates for the ministry, several eminent divines
are beginning to inculcate the opinion, with great earnestness,
that to enter fully upon the active duties of this laborious vocation
before the age I have mentioned, is injurious to themselves and
to the cause they wish to promote --- the cause of God. And I
hope their voices will be raised louder and louder on this topic,
till the note of remonstrance reaches the most distant villiages
of our country.
It has often occurred to me that every modest young man, whatever
may be his destination, might learn wisdom from consulting the
history of the YOUNG MAN OF NAZARETH as well as of the illustrious
reformer who prepared the way for him.* Our young men, since newspapers
have become so common, are apt to think themselves thoroughly
versed in law, politics, divinity, &c.; and are not backward to
exhibit their talents. But who is abler at disputation than HE
who at twelve years of age proved a match for the learned doctors
of the law at Jerusalem? Did he, whose mind was so mature at twelve,
enter upon the duties of his ministry ( a task
*Even Timothy -- young Timothy as he has been often called --
was probably in his 30th year when he was ordained.
more arduous than has ever fallen to the lot of any human being)
at 18 or 20 years of age? But why not, when he had so much to
do? -- Or did he wait till he was in his 30th year?
The great question with every young man should not be, When can
I get such assistance as will enable me to commence business;
-- but, Am I will qualified to commence? Perfect in his profession,
absolutely no, no man ever will be; but a measure of perfection
which is rarely if ever attained under 30 years of age, is most
certainly demanded. To learn the simplest handicraft employment
is some countries, a person must serve an apprenticeship of at
least seven years. Here, in America, half that time is thought
by many young men an intolerable burden, and they long to throw
it off. They wish for what they call a better order of things.
The consequences of this feeling, and a growing spirit of insubordination,
are every year becoming more and more deplorable.
SECTION II. Importance of Integrity .
Every one will admit the importance of integrity in all his dealings,
for however dishonest he may be himself, he cannot avoid perceiving
the necessity of integrity in others. No society could exist were
it not for the measure of this virtue which remains. Without a
degree of confidence, in transacting business with each other,
even the savage life would be a throusand times more savage than
it now is. Without it, a gang of theives or robbers could not
long hold together.
But while all admit the sterling importance of strict integrity,
how few practise it! Let me prevail when I entreat the young not
to hazard either their reputation or peace of mind for the uncertain
advantages to be derived from unfair dealing. It is madness, especially
in one who is just beginning the world. It would be so, if by
a single unfair act he could get a fortune; leaving the loss of
the soul out of the question. For if a trader, for example, is
once generally known to be guilty of fraud, or even of taking
exorbitance profits, there is an end to his reputation. Bad as
the world is, there is some respect to be paid to integrity, and
wo to him who forgets it.
If a person habitually allows himself if a single act not sanctioned
by the great and golden rule of loving others as we do ourselves,
he has entered a road whose everlasting progress is downward.
Fraudulent in one point, he will soon be so in another --- and
another; and so on to the end of the chapter, if there be any
end to it. At least no one who has gone a step in the downward
road, can assure himself that this will not be the dreadful result.
An honest bargain is that only in which the fair market price
or value of a commodity is mutually allowed, so far as it is known.
The market price is usually, the equitable price of a thing. It
will be the object of every honest man to render, in all cases,
an equivalent for what he receives. Where the market price cannot
be known, each of the parties to an honest contract will endeavor
to come as near it as possible; keeping in mind the rule of doing
to others as they would desire others to do to them in similar
circumstances. Every bargain not formed on these principles is,
in its results, unjust; and if intentional, is fraudulent.
There are a great many varieties of this species of fraud.
One of the grossest impositions of this kind --- common as it
is --- is practised upon the public in advertising and selling
nostrums as safe and valuable medicines. These are ushered into
newspapers with a long train of pompous declarations, almost always
false, and always delusive. The silly purchaser buys and uses
the medicine chiefly or solely because it is sold by a respectable
man, under the sanction of advertisements to which that respectable
man lends his countenance. Were good men to decline this wretched
employment, the medicines would probably soon fall into absolute
discredit; and health and limbs andlife would, in many instances,
be preserved from unnecessary destruction.
SECTION III. Method in Business.
There is one class of men who are of inestimable value to society
--- and the more so from their scarcity; --- I mean men of business.
It is true you could hardly offer a greater insult to most persons
than to say they are not of this class; but you cannot have been
very observing not to have learned, that they who most deserve
the charge will think themselves the most insulted by it.
Nothing contributes more to despatch, as well as safety and success
in business, than method and regularity. Let a person set down
in his memorandum book, every morning, the several articles of
business that ought to be done during the day; and beginning with
the first person he is to call upon, or the first place he is
to go, finish that affair, if possible, before he begins another;
and so on with the rest.
A man of business, who observes this method, will hardly ever
find himself jurried or disconcerted by forgetfulness. And he
who sets down all his transactions in writing, and keeps his accounts,
and the whole state of his affairs, in a distinct and accurate
order, so that at any time, by looking into his books, he can
see in what condition his concerns are, and whether he is in a
thriving or declining way; --- such a one, I say, deserves properly
the character of a man of business; and has a pretty fair prospect
of sucesss (sic) in his plans.* But such exactness seldom suits
the man of pleasure. He has other thing in his head.
The way to transact a great deal of business in a little time,
and to do it well, is to observe three rules. 1. Speak to the
point. 2. Use no more words than are necessary, fully to express
your meaning. 3. Study beforehand, and set down in writing afterwards,
a sketch of the transaction.
To enable a person to speak to the point, he must have acquired,
as one essential pre-requisite, the art of thinking to the point.
To effect these objects, or rather this object, as they constitute
in reality but one, is the legitimate end of the study of grammar;
of the importance of which I am to speak elsewhere. This branch
is almost equally indispensable in following the other two rules;
but here, a thorough knowledge of numbers, as well as of language,
will be demanded.
SECTION IV. Application to Business.
There is one piece of prudence, above all others, absolutely necessary to those who expect to
* A gentleman of my aquaintance assures me that he always leaves
his books, accounts, &c., in so complete a state, on going to
bed, that if he should die during the night, every thing could
be perfectly understood. This rule he adheres to, as a manner
of duty; not only to his fellow men, but to God.
raise themselves in the world by an employment of any kind; I
mean a constant, unwearied application to the main pursuit. By
means of perservering diligence, joined to frugality, we see many
people in the lowest and most laborious stations in life, raise
themselves to such circumstances as will allow them, in their
old age, that relief from excessive anxiety and toil which are
necessary to make the decline of life easy and comfortable.
Burgh mentions a merchant, who, at first setting out, opened and
shut his shop every day for several weeks together, without selling
goods to the value of two cents; who by the force of application
for a course of years, rose, at last, to a handsome fortune. But
I have known many who had a variety of opportunities for settling
themselves comfortably in the world, yet, for want of steadiness
to carry any scheme to perfection, they such from one degree of
wretchedness to another for many years together, without the least
hopes of ever getting above distress and pinching want.
There is hardly an employment in life so trifling that it will
not afford a subsistence, if constantly and faithfully followed.
Indeed, it is by indefatigable diligence alone, that a fortune
can be acquired in any business whatsoever. An estate procured
by what is commonly called a lucky hit, is a rare instance; and
he who expects to have his fortune made in that way, is about
as rational as he who should neglect all probable means of earning,
in hopes that he should some time or other find a treasure.
There is no such thing as continuing in the same condition without
an income of some kind or other. If a man does not bestir himself,
poverty must, sooner or later, overtake him. If he continues to
expend for the necessary charges of life, an will not take the
pains to gain something to supply the place of what he deals out,
his funds must at length come to an end; and the misery of poverty
fall upon him at an age when he is less able to grapple with it.
No employment that is really useful to mankind deserves to be
regarded as mean. This has been a stumbling stone to many young
men. Because they could not pursue a course which they deemed
sufficiently respectable, they neglected business altogether until
so late in life that they were ashamed to make a beginning. A
most fatal mistake. Pin making is a minute affair, but will any
one call the employment a mean one? If so, it is one which the
whole civilized world encourage, and to which they are under lasting
obligation daily. Any useful business ought to be reputable, which
is reputably followed.
The character of a drone is always, especially among the human
species, one of the most contemptible. In proportion to a persons's
activity for his own good and that of his fellow creatures, he
is to be reegarded as a more of less valuable member of society.
If all the idel people in the United States were to be buried
on one year, the loss would be trifling in comparison with the
loss of only a few industrious people. Each moment of time ought
to be put to proper use, either in business, in improving the
mind, in the innocent and necessary relaxations and entertainments
of life, or in the care of the moral and religious part of our
nature. Each moment of time is, in the language of theology, a
monument of Divine mercy.
SECTION V. Proper Time of Doing Business .
There are times and seasons for every lawful purpose of life,
and a very material part of prudence is to judge rightly, and
make the best of them. If you have to deal, for example, with
a phlegmatic gloomy man, take him, if you can, over his bottle.
This advice may seem, at first view, to give countenance to a
species of fraud: but is it so? These hypochondriacal people have
their fits and starts, and if you do not take them when they are
in an agreeable state of mind, you are very likely to find them
quite as much below par, as the bottle raises them above. But
if you deal with them in this condition, they are no more themselves
than in the former case. I therefore think the advice correct.
It is on the same principles, and in the same belief, that I would
advise you, when you deal with a covetous man, to propose your
business to him immediately after he has been receiving, rather
than expending money. So if you have to do with a drunkard, call
on him in the morning; for then, if ever, his head is clear.
Again; if you knwo a person to be unhappy in his family, meet
him abroad if possible, rather than at his own house. A statesman
will not be likely to give you a favorable reception immediately
after being disappointed in some of his schemes. Some people are
always sour and ill humored from the hour of rising till they
have dined.
And as in persons, so in things, the time is a matter of great
consequence; and eye to the rise and fall of goods; the favorable
season of importing and exporting; --- these are some of the things
which require the attention of those who expect any considerable
share of success.
It is not certain but some dishonest person, under shelter of
the rule, in this chapter, may gratify a wish to take unfair advantages
of those with whom he deals. But I hope otherwise; for I should
be sorry to give countenance, for one moment, to such conduct.
My whole purpose (in this place) is to give direction to the young
for securing their own rights; not for taking away the rights
of others. The man who loves his neighbor as himself, will not
surely put a wrong construction on what I have written. I would
fain hope that ther is no departure here or elsewhere, in the
book, from sound christian morality; for it is the bible, on which
I wish to see all moral rules based.
SECTION VI. Buying upon Trust .
'Owe no many any thing,' is an apostolic injuction; and happy
is he who has it in his power to obey. I my own opinion, most
young men possess this power, did they perceive the importance
of using it by commencing right. It is not so difficult a thing
as many people imagine. The great difficulty is to moderate our
desires and to diminish our wants within bounds proportioned to
our income. We can expend much, or live on little; and this, to,
without descending into absolute penury. It is truly surprising
to observe how people in similar rank, condition, and circumstances,
contrive to expend so very differently. I have known instances
of young men who would thrive on an income which would not more
than half support their neighbors in circumstances evidently similar.
Study therefore to live within your income. To this end you must
calculate. But here you will be obliged to learn much from personal
experience, dear as her school is, unless you are willing to learn
from that of others. If, for example, your income is $600 a year,
and you sit down at the commencement of the year and calculate
on spending $400, and saving the remainder, you will be very liable
to fail in your calculation. But if you call in the experience
of wiser heads who have travelled the road of life before you,
they will tell you that after you have made every reasonable allowance
for necessary expenses during the year, and believe yourself able
to lay up $200, you will not, once in ten times, be able to save
more than two thirds of that sum --- and this, too, without any
sickness or casualty.
It is an important point never to buy what you do not want. Many
people buy and article merely because it is cheap, and they can
have credit. It is true they imagine they shall want it as some
future time, or can sell it again to advantage. But they would
not buy at present, if it cost them cash, from their pockets.
The mischief is that when the day of payment is distant, the cost
seems more trifling than it really is. Franklin's advice is in
point; 'Buy what thou has not need of, and ere long thou shalt
sell thy necessaries;' -- and such persons would do well to remember
it.
The difference between credit and ready money is very great. Innumerable
things are not bought in case of trust; so much easier, is it,
to order a thing than to pay for it. A future day, a day of payment
must come, to be sure; but that is little thought of at the time.
But if the money were to be drawn out the moment the thing was
received or offered, these questions would arise; Can I not do
without it? Is it indispensible? And if I do not buy it, shall
I suffer a loss or injury greater in amount than the cost of the
thing? If these questions were put, every time we make a purchase,
we should seldom hear of those suicides which disgrace this country,
and the old world sill more.
I am aware that it will be said, and very truly, that the concerns
of merchants, the purchasing of great estates, and various other
large transactions, cannot be carried on in this manner; but these
are rare exceptions to the rule. And even in these cases, there
might be much less of bills and bonds, and all the sources of
litigation, than there now is. But in the every day business of
life, in transactions with the butcher, the baker, the tailor,
the shoemaker, what excuse can there be for pleading the example
of the merchant, who carries on his work by ships and exchange?
A certain young man, on being requested to keep an account of
all he received and expended, answered that his business was not
to keep account books; that he was sure not to make a mistake
as to his income; and that as to his expenditure, the purse that
held his money, would be an infallible guide, for he never bought
any thing that he did not immediately pay for. I do not mean to
recommend to young men not to keep written accounts, for as the
world is, I deem it indispensable.
Few, it is believed, will deny that they generally pay, for the
same article, a fourth part more, in the case of trust, than it
that of ready money. Suppose not, the baker butcher, tailor, and
shoemaker, receive from you $400 a year. Now if you multiply the
$100 you lose, by not paying ready money, by 20, you will find
that in the end of 20 years, you have a loss of $2,000, besides
the accumulated interest.
The fathers of the English church, forbade selling on trust as
a higher price than ready money, which was the same thing in effect
as to forbid trust; and this was doubtless one of the great objects
those wise andpious men had in view; for they were fathers in
legislation and morals, as well as in religion. But we of the
present age, seem to have grown wiser than they, and not only
make a difference in the price, regulated by the difference in
the mode of payment, but no one is expected to do otherwise. We
are not only allowed to charge something for the use of the money,
but something additional for the risk of loss which may frequently
arise, --- and most frequently does arise --- from the misfortunes
of those to whom we thus assign our goods on trust.
The man, therefore, who purchases on trust, not only pays for
being credited, but he also pays his share of what the tradesman
loses by his general practice of selling upon trust; and after
all, he is not so good a customer as the man who purchases cheaply
with ready money. His name, indeed, is in the tradesman's book,
but with that name the tradesman cannot buy a fresh supply of
goods.
Infinite, almost, are the ways in which people lose by this sort
of dealing. Domestics sometimes go and order things not wanted
at all; at other times more than is wanted. All this would be
obviated by purchasing with ready money; for whether through the
hands of the party himself, or those of some other person, there
would always be an actual counting of the money. Somebody would
see the thing bought, and the money paid. And the master would
give the steward or housekeeper a purse of money at the time,
he would see the money too, would set a proper value upon it,
and would just desire to know upon what it had been expended.
Every man, who purchases for ready money, will naturally make
the amount of the purchase as low as possible, in proportion to
his means. This care and frugality will make an addition to his
means; and therefore, at the end of his life, he will have a great
deal more to spend, and still be as rich as if he had been trusted
all his days. In addition to this, he will eat, and drink, and
sleep in peace, and avoid all the endless papers, and writings,
and receipts, and bills, and disputes, and lawsuits, inseparable
from the credit system.
This is by no means intended as a lesson of stinginess, nor is
it any part of my purpose to inculcate the plan of heaping up
money. But purchasing with ready money really gives you more money
to purchase with; you can afford to have a greater quantity and
variety of enjoyments. In the town, it will tend to hasten your
pace along the streets, for the tempation at the windows is answered
in a moment by clapping your hand upon your pocket; and the question;
'Do I really want it?' is sure to recur immediately; because the
touch of the money will put the thought into your mind.
Now supposing you to have a fortune, even beyond your actual wants,
would not the money which you would save this way, be very well
applied in acts of real benevolence? Can you walk or ride a mile,
in the city or the country, or go to half a dozen houses; or in
fact can you open your eyes without seeing some human being, born
in the same country with yourself, and who, on that account alone,
has some claim upon your good wishes and your chartiy? Can you,
if you would, avoid seeing one person, if no more, to whom even
a small portion of your annual savings would convey gladness of
heart? Your own feelings will suggest the answer.
SECTION VII. Of entrusting Business to others .
'If you wish to have your business done, go; if not, send.' This
is an old maxim; and one which is no less true than old. Every
young man, on setting out in the world, should make it a rule,
never to trust any thing of consequence to another, which he can,
without too much difficulty, perform himself.
1. Because, let a person have my interest ever so much at heart,
I am sure to regard it more myself.
but he who does the most good, attended with the least evil.
But we should remember that waht others do, is not done by ourselves.
Still, and individual may often do many little things without
any hindrance to his main object. For example, I would not thank
a person to make or mend my pen, or shave me; because I can write
as much, or perform as much business of any kind, in a week or
month ---probably more --- if I stop to mend my pens, shave myself
daily, make fires, saw and split wood, &c. as if I do not. And
the same is true of a thousand other things.
SECTION VIII. Over Trading .
I have already classed this among the frauds into which business
man are in danger of falling; and I cannot but think it character
will be pretty well established by what follows.
Over trading is an error into which many industrious, and active
young men are apt to run, from a desire to get rich more rapidly
than they are able to do with a smaller business. And yet profusion
itself is not more dangerous. Indeed, I question whether idleness
brings more people to ruin than overtrading.
This subject is intimately connected with credit, for it is the
credit system that gives such facilities to over trading. But
of the evils of credit I have treated fully elsewhere. I will
only add, under this head, a few remarks on one particular species
of trading. I refer to the conduct of many persons, with large
capitals, who, for the sake of adding to a heap already too large,
monopolize the market, --- or trade for a profit which they know
dealers of smaller fortunes cannot possibly live by. If such men
really think that raising themselves on the ruin of others, in
this manner, is justifiable, and that riches obtained in this
manner are fairly earned, they must certainly have either neglected
to inform themselves, or stifled the remonstrances of conscience,
and bid defiance to the laws of God.
SECTION IX. Making Contracts Beforehand .
In making bargains --- with workmen, for example --- always do
it beforehand, and never suffer the matter to be deferred by their
saying they will leave it to your discretion.
There are several reasons why this ought to be done. 1st. It prevents
any difficulty afterward; and does no harm, even when the intentions
of both parties are perfectly good. 2d. If you are dealing with
a knave, it prevents him from accomplishing any evil designs he
may have had upon you. 3d. Young people are apt to be deceived
by appearances, both from a credulity common to their youth and
experience, and because neither the young nor the old have any
certain method of knowing human character by externals. The most
open hearted are the most liable to be imposed upon by the designing.
It will be well to have all your business --- of course all contracts
--- as far as may be practicable, in writing. And it would be
well if men of business would make it a constant rule, whenever
and wherever it is possible, to draw up a minute or memorial of
every transaction, subscribed by both, with a clause signifying
that in case of any difference, they would submit the matter to
arbitration.
Nothing is more common than for a designing person to put off
the individual he wishes to take advantage of by saying; We ahan't disagrree. I'll do what's right about it; I won't wrong
you, &c. And then when accounts come to be settled, and the party who thinks
himself aggrieved, says that he made the bargain with the expectation
of having such and such advantages allowed him, No, says the sharper,
I never told you such any such thing.
It is on this occasion that you cannot be too exact in making
contracts; nor is there indeed any safety in dealing with deceitful
and avaricious people, after you have taken all precaution in
your power.
SECTION X. How to know with whom to deal .
There are two maxims in common life that seem to clash with each
other, most pointedly. The first is, 'Use ever precaution with
a stranger, that you would wish you had done, should he turn out
to be a villian;' and secondly, 'Treat every man as an honest
man, until he proves to be otherwise.'
Now there is good advice in both these maxims. By this I mean
that they may both be observed, to a certain extent, without interfering
with each other. You may be cautious about hastily becoming acquainted
with a stranger, and yet so far as you have any concern iwth him,
treat him like an honest man. No reasonable person will complain
if you do not unbosom yourself to him at once. And if he is unreasonable,
you will not wish for an intimate acquaintance with him.
My present purpose is to offer a few hints, with a view to assist
you in judging of the characters of those with whom it may be
your lot to deal. Remember, however, that like all things human,
they are imperfect. All I can say is that they are the best I
can offer.
There is something in knavery that will hardly bear the inspection
of a piercing eye; and you may, more generally, observe in a sharper
an unsteady and confused look. If a person is persuaded of the
uncommon sagacity of one before whom he is to appear, he will
hardly succeed in mustering impudence and artifice enough to bear
him through without faltering. It will, therefore, be a good way
to try one whom you have reason to suspect of a design upon you,
by fixing your eyes upon his, and bringing up a supposition of
your having to do with one whose integrity you suspected; stating
whay you would do in such a case. If the person you are talking
with be really what you expect, he will hardly be able to keep
his countenance.
It will be a safe rule, --- though doubtless there are exceptions
to it, --- to take mankind to be more or less avaraicious. Yet
a great love of money is a great enemy to honesty. The aged are,
in this respect, more dangerous than the young. It will be your
wisdom ever to be cautious of aged avarice; and especially of
those who, in an affected and forced manner, bring in religion,
and talk much of duty on all occasions; of all smooth and fawning
people; of those who are very talkative, and who, in dealing with
you, endeavor to draw off your attention from the point in hand
by incoherent or random expressions.
I have already advised you how to proceed with those of whom you
have good reason to be suspicious. But by all means avoid entertaining
unnecessary suspicions of your fellow beings; for it will usually
render both of you and them the more miserable. It is often owing
to a consciousness of a designing temper, in ourselves, that we
are led to suspect others.
If you hear a person boasting of having got a remarkably good
bargain, you may generally conclude him by no means honest; for
almost always where one gains much in a bargain, the other loses.
I know well that cases occur where both parties are gainers, but
not greatly so. And when you hear a man triumph in gaining by
another's loss, you may easily judge of his character.
Let me warn you against the sanguine promisers. Of these there
are two sorts. The first are those who from a foolish custom of
fawning upon all those whom they meet with in a company, have
acquired a habit of promising great favors which they have no
idea of performing. The second are a sort of warm hearted people,
who while they lavish their promises have some thoughts of performing
them; but when the time comes, and the sanguine fit is worn off,
the trouble or expense appears in another light; the promiser
cools, and the expectant is disappointed.
Be cautious of dealing with an avaricious and cruel man, for if
it should happen by an unlucky turn of trade that you should come
into the power of such a person, you have nothing to expect but
the utmost rigor of the law.
In negotiating, there are a number of circumstances to be considered;
the neglect of any of which may defeat your whole scheme. These
will be mentioned in the next section.
SECTION XI. How to take Men as they are .
Such a knowledge of human character as will enable most of us
to treat mankind according to their dispositions, circumstances,
and modes of thinking, so as to secure their aid in all our laudable
purposes, is absolutely indispensable. And while all men boast
of their knowledge of human nature, and would rather be thought
ignorant of almost everything else than this, how obvious it is
that there is nothing in regard to which there exists so much
ignorance!
A miser is by no means a proper person to appply to for a favor
that will cost him any thing. But if he chance to be a man of
principle, he may make an excellent partner in trade, or arbiter
in a dispute about property; for he will have patience to investigate
little things, and to stand about trifles, which a generous man
would scorn. Still, as an honest man, and above all as a Christian,
I doubt whether it would be quite right thus to derive advantage
about from the vices of another. In employing the miser, you give
scope to his particular vice.
A passionate man will fly into a rage at the most trifling affront,
but he will generally forget it nearly as soon, and be glad to
do any thing in his power to make up with you. It is not therefore
so dangerous to disoblige him, as the gloomy, sullen mortal, who
will wait seven years for an opportunity to do you mischief.
A slow, cool man, who is somewhat advanced in age, is generally
the best person to advise with. For despatch of business, however,
make use of the young, the warm, and the sanguine. Some men are
of no character at all; but always take a tinge from the last
company they were it. Ther advice, as well as their assistance,
is usually good for nothing.
It is in vain to think of finding anything very valuable in the
mind of a covetous man. Avarice is generally the vice of abject
spirits. Men who have a very great talent at making money, commonly
have no other; for the man who began with nothing, and has accumulated
wealth, has been too busy to think of improving his mind; or indeed,
to think about anything else but property.
A boaster is always to be suspected. His is a natural infirmity,
which makes him forget what he is about, and run into a thousand
extravagances that have no connection with the truth. With those
who have a tolerable knowledge of the world, all his assertions,
professions of friend ship, promises, and threatenings, go for
nothing. Trust him with a secret, and he will surely discover
it, either through vanity, or levity.
A meek tempered man is not quite the proper person for you; his
modesty will be easily confounded. --- The talkative man will
be apt to forget himself, and blunder out something that will
give you trouble.
A man's ruling passion is the key by which you may come at his
character, and pretty much nearly guess how he will act in any
given circumstances, unless he is a wit or a fool; they acct chiefly
from caprice.
There are likewise connections between the different parts of
men's characters, which it will be useful for you to study. For
example, if you find a man to be hasty and passionate, you may
generally take it for granted that he is open and artless, and
so on. Like other general rules, however, this admits of many
exceptions.
A bully is usually a coward. When, therefore, you unluckily have
to deal with such a man, the best way is to make up to him boldly,
and answer him with firmness. If you show the least sign of submission,
he will take advantage you it to use you ill.
There are six sorts of people, at whose hands you need not expect
much kindness. The sordid and narrow-minded, think of nobody but
themselves. The lazy will not take the trouble to oblige you.
The busy will not have time to think of you. The overgrown rich
man, is above regarding anyone, how much soever he may stand in
need of assistance. The poor and unhappy often have not the ability.
The good natured simpleton, however willing, is incapable of serving
you. *
-------------------------
* These statements may seem to require a little qualification.
There are two sorts of busy men. One sort are busy, as the result
of benevolent purpose. These
The age of the person you are to deal with is also to be considered.
Young people are easily drawn into any scheme, merely from its
being new, especially if it falls in with their love of pleasure;
but they are almost as easily discouraged from it by the next
person that they meet with. They are not good counsellors, for
they are apt to be precipitate and thoughtless; but are very fit
for action, where you prescribe them a track from which they know
they must not vary. Old age, on the contrary, is
are often among the best of mankind; and though always busy in
carrying out their plans, they find time to perform a thousand
little acts of goodness, notwithstanding. --- It has, indeed,
been sometimes said,that when a great public enterprise is about
to be undertaken, which requires the aid of individual contributions,
either of time or money, those who are most busy, and from whom
we might naturally expect the least, often do the most. It is
also said that men of business have the most leisure; and it sometimes
seems to be true, where they methodize their plans properly. These
maxims, however, apply with the most force to men devoted to a
higher purpose than the worship of this world -- men who live
for God, and the good of this universe, generally.
There are also two sets of rich men. Some men may have property
in their hands to an immense amount, with out possessing a worldly
spirit. The rich man referred to above, is of another sort. He
is the man who 'gets all he can, and keeps all he can get.' This
is probably the gospel definition of the term, a rich man, who,
it is said, can no more enter a world of spiritual enjoyment than
a camel or a cable can go through 'the eye of a needle.'
slow to be sure; very cautious; opposed to new schemes and ways
of life; inclining, generally, to covetousness; fitter to consult
with you, than to act for you; not so easily won by fair speeches
or long reasonings; tenacious of old opinions, customs, and formalities;
apt to be displeased with those, especially younger people, who
pretend to question their judgment; fond of deference, and of
being listened to. Young people, in their anger, mean less than
they say; old people, more. You may make up for an injury with
most young men; the old are generally more slow in forgiving.
The fittest character to be concerned with in business, is, that
in which are united an inviolable integrity, founded upon rational
principles of virtue and religion, a cool but determined temper,
a friendly heart, a ready hand, long experience and extensive
knowledge of the world; with a solid reputation of many years'
standing, and easy circumstances.
SECTION XII. Of desiring the good opinion of others .
A young man is not far from ruin, when he can say, withoug blushing,
I don't care what others think of me. To be insensible to public
opinion, or to the estimation i which we are held by others, by
no means indicates a good and generous spirit.
But to have a due regard to public opinion is one thing, and to
make that opinion the principal rule of action, quite another.
There is not greater weakness than that of letting our happness
depend too much upon the opinion of others. Other people lie under
such disadvantages for coming at our true characters, and are
so often misled by prejudice for or against us, that if our own
conscience condemns us, their approbation can give us little consolation.
On the other hand, if we are sure we acted from honest motives,
and with a reference to proper ends, it is of little consequence
if the world should happen to find fault. Mankind, for the most
part, are so much governed by fancy, that what will win their
hearts to-day, will disgust them to-morrow; and he who undertakes
to please every body at all times, places, and circumstances,
will never be in want of employment.
A wise man, when he hears of reflections made upon him, will consider
whether they are just. I f they are, he will correct the faults
in question, with as much cheerfulness as if they had been suggested
by his dearest friend.
I have sometimes thought that, in this view, enemies were the
best of friends. Those who are merely friends in name, are often
unwilling to tell us a great many things which it is of the highest
importance that we should know. But our enemies, from spite, envy,
or some other cause, mention them; and we ought on the whole to
rejoice that they do, and to make the most of their remarks.
SECTION XIII. Intermeddling withthe affairs of others .
There are some persons who never appear to be happy, if left to
themselves and their own reflections. All their enjoyment seems
to come from without; none from within. they are ever for having
something to do with the affirs of others. Not a single petty
quarrel can take place, in the neighborhooed, but they suffer
their feelings to be enlisted, and allow themselves to "take sides'
with one of the parties. Those who possess such a disposition
are among the most miserable of their race.
An old writer says thay 'Every one should mind his own business;
for he who is perpetually concerning himself about the food or
ill fortune of others, will never be at rest.' And he says truly.
It is not denied that some men are professionally bound to attend
to the concerns of others. But this is not the case supposed.
The bulk of mankind will be happier, and od more for others, by
letting them alone; at least by avoiding any of that sort of meddling
wich may be construed into officiousness.
Some of the worst meddlers in human society are those who have
been denominated match-makers. A better name for the, however,
would be match-breakers, for if they do not actually break more
matches than they make, they usually cause a great deal of misery
to those whom they are instrumental in bringing prematurely together.
Many people who, in other respects, pass for excellent, do not
hesitate to take sides on almost all occasions, withere theyknow
much about the real merits of the case or not. Others may judge,
at once, of every one of whom they hear any thing evil, and in
the same premature manner.
All these and a thousand other kinds of 'meddling' do much evil.
The tendancy is to keep men like Ishmael, with their hands against
every man, and every man's hands against theirs.
SECTION XIV. On Keeping Secrets .
It is sometimes said that in a good state of society there would
be no necessity for keeping secrets, for no individual would have
any thing to conceal. This may be true; but if so, society is
far --- very far --- from being as perfect as it ought to be.
At present we shall find no intelligent circle, except it were
the society of the glorified above, which does not require occasional
secrecy. But if there are secrets to be kept, somebody must be
keeping them.
Some persons can hardly conceal a secret, if they would. They
will promise readily enough; but the moment they gain possession
of the fact, its importance rises in their estimation, till it
occupies so much of ther waking thoughts, that it will be almost
certain, in some form or other, to escape them.
Others are not very anxious to conceal things which are entrusted
to them. They may not wish to make mischief, exactly; but there
is a sort of recklessness about them, that renders them very unsafe
confidants.
Others again, when they promise, mean to perform. But no sooner
do they possess the treasure committed to their charge, than they
begin to grow forgetful of the manner of coming by it. And before
they are aware, they reveal it.
There are not many then, whom it is safe to trust. These you will
value as they do diamonds, in proportion to their scarcity.
But there are individuals who merit your highest confidence, if
you can but find them. Husbands, where a union is founded as it
ought to be, can usually trust their wives. This is one of the
prominent advantages of matrimony. It gives us an opportunity
of unbosoming our feelings and views and wishes not only with
safety, but often with sympathy.
But confidence may sometimes be reposed, in other circumstances.
Too much reserve makes us miserable. Perhaps it were better that
we should suffer a little, now and then, than that we should never
trust.
As an instance of the extent to which mankind can sometimes be
confided in, and to show that celibacy, too, is not without this
virtue, you will allow me to relate, briefly, an anecdote.
A certain husband and wife had difficulties. They both sought
advice of a single gentleman, their family physician. For some
time there was hope of an amicable adjustment of all grievances;
but at length every effort proved vain, and an open quarrel ensued.
But what was the surprise of each party to learn by accident,
some time afterward, that both of them had sought counsel of the
same individual, and yet he had not betrayed the trust.
In a few instances, too, secrets have been confided to husbands,
without their communicating them to their wives; and the contrary.
This was done, however, by particular request. It is a requisition
which, for my own part, I should be very unwilling to make.
SECTION XV. Fear of Poverty .
The ingenious but sometimes fanciful Dr. Darwin, reckons the fear
of poverty as a disease, and goes on to proscribe.
The truth is, there is not much real poverty in this country.
Our very paupers are rich, for they ususally have plenty of wholesome
food, and comfortable clothing, and what could a Cr sus, with
all his riches, have more? Poverty exists much more in imagination
than in reality. The shame of being though poor, is a great and
fatal weakness, to say the least. It depends, it is true, much
upon the fashion.
So long as the phrase 'he is a good man,' means that the person
spoken of is rich, we need not wonder that every one wishes to
be thought richer than he is. When adulation is sure to follow
weath, and when contempt would be sure to follow many if they
were not wealthy; when people are spoken of with deference, and
even lauded to the skies because their riches are very great;
when this is the case, I say, we need not wonder if men are ashamed
to be thought poor. But this is one of the greatest dangers which
young people have to encounter in setting out in life. It has
brought thousands and hundreds of thousands to pecuniary ruin.
One of the most amiable features of good republican society is
this; that men seldom boast of their riches, or disguise their
poverty, but speak of both, as of any other matters that are proper
for conversation. No man shuns another because he is poor; no
man is preferred to another because he is rich. In hundreds and
hundreds of instances have men in this country, not worth a shilling,
been chosen by the people to take care of their rights and interests,
in preference to men who ride in their carriages.
The shame of being though poor leads to everlasting efforts to
disguise one's poverty. The carriage --- the domestics --- the
wine --- the spirits --- the decanters --- the glass; --- all
the table apparatus, the horses, the dresses, the dinners, and
the parties, must be kept up; not so much because he or she who
keeps or gives them has any pleasure arising therefrom, as because
not to keep and give them, would give rise to a suspicion of a
want of means. And thus thousands upon thousands are yearly brought
into a state of real poverty, merely by their great anxiety not
to be thought poor. Look around you carefully, and see if this
is not so.
In how many instances have you seen amiable and industrious families
brought to ruin by nothing else by the fear they should be? Resolve, then, from the first, to set this false shame at
defiance. When you have done that, effectually, you have laid
the corner-stone of mental tranquillity.
There are thousands of families at this very moment, struggling
to keep us appearances. They feel that it makes them miserable;
but you can no more induce them to change their course, than you
can put a stop to the miser's laying up of gold.
Farmers accomodate themselves to their condition more easily than
merchants, mechanics, and professional men. They live at a greater
distance from their neighbors; they can change their style of
living without being perceived; they can put away the decanter,
change the china for something plain, and the world is none the
wiser for it. But the mechanic, the doctor, the attorney, and
the trader cannot make the change to quietly and unseen.
Stimulating drink, which is a sort of criterion of the scale of
living, --- (or scale to the plan,) --- a sort of key to the tune;
--- this is the thing to banish first of all, because all the
rest follow; and in a short time, come down to their proper level.
Am I asked, what is a glass of wine? I answer, it is everything.
It creates a demand for all the other unnecessary expenses; it
is injurious to the health, and must be so. Every bottle of wine
that is drank contains a portion of spirit, to say nothing of
other drugs still more poisonous; and of all friends to the doctors,
alcoholic drinks are the greatest. It is nearly the same, however,
with strong tea and coffee. But what adds to the folly and wickedness
of using these drinks, the parties themselves do not always drink
them by choice; and hardly ever because they believe they are
useful; --- but from mere ostentation, or the fear of being though
either rigid or stingy. At this very moment, thousands of families
daily use some half a dozen drinks, besides the best, because
if they drank water only, they might not be regarded as genteel;
or might be suspected of poverty. And thus they waste their property
and their health.
Poverty frequently arises from the very virtues of the impoverished
parties. Not so frequently, I admit, as from vice, folly, and
indiscretion; but still very frequently. And as it is according
to scripture not to 'despise the poor, because he is poor,' so
we ought not to honor the rich merely because he is rich. The
true way is to take a fair survey of the character of a man as
exhibited in his conduct; and to respect him, or otherwise, according
to a due estimate of that character.
Few countries exhibit more of those fatal terminations of life,
called suicides, than this. Many of these unnatural crimes arise
from an unreasonable estimate of the evils of poverty. Their victims,
it is true, may be called insane; but their insanity almost always
arises from the dread of poverty. Not, indeed, from the dread
of the want of means for sustaining life, or even decent living;
but from the dread of being thought or known to be poor; --- from
the dread of what is called falling in the scale of society.*
Viewed in its true light, what is there in poverty that can tempt
a man to take away his own life? He is the same man that he was
before; he has the same body and the same mind. Suppose he can
forsee and alteration in his dress or his diet, should he kill
himself on that account? Are these all the things that a man wishes
to live for?
---
* I should be very sorry to be understood as affirming that a
majority of suicidal acts are the result of intemperance; ---
by no means. My own opinion is, that if there be a single vice
more fruitful of this horrid crime than any other, it is gross
sensuality. The records of insane hospitals, even in this country
will show, that this is not mere conjecture. As it happens, however,
that the latter vice is usally accompanied by intemperance in
eating and drinking, by gambling, &c., the blame is commonly thrown,
not on the principal agent concerned in the crime, but on the
accomplices.
I do not deny that we ought to take care of our means, use them
prudently and sparingly, and keep our expenses always within the
limits of our income, be that what it may. One of the effectual
means of doing this, is to purchase with ready money. On this
point, I have already remarked at length, and will only repeat
here the injunction of St. Paul; 'Owe no man anything;' although
the fashion of the whole world should be against you.
Should you regard the advice of this section, the counsels of
the next will be of less importance; for you will have removed
one of the strongest inducements to speculation, as well as to
overtrading.
SECTION XVI. On Speculation .
Young men are apt to be fond of speculation. This propensity is
very easily developed --- first in the family --- and afterwards
at the school. By speculation, I mean the purchasing of something
which you do not want for use, solely with a view to sell it again
at a large profit; but on the sale of which there is a hazard.
When purchases of this sort are made with the person's own cash,
they are not so unreasonable, but when they are made by one who
is deeply indebted to his fellow beings, or with money borrowed
for that purpose, it is not a whit better than gambling, let the
practice be defended by whom it may: and has been in every country,
especially in this, a fruitful source of poverty, misery, and
suicide. Grant that this species of gambling has arisen from the
facility of obtaining the fictitious means of making a purchase,
still it is not the less necessary that I beseech you not to practice
it, and if engaged in it already, to disentangle yourself as soon
as you can. Your life, thus engaged, is that of a gamester ---
call it by what smoother name you may. It is a life of constant
anxiety, desire to overreach, and general gloom; enlivened now
and then, by a gleam of hope or of success. Even that success
is sure to lead to farther adventures; till, at last, a thousand
to one, that your fate is that of 'the pitcher to the well.'
The great temptation to this, as well as to every other species
of gambling, is, the success of the few. As young men, who crowd
to the army in search of rank and renown, never look into the
ditch that holds their slaughtered companions, but have their
eye constanlty fixed on the commander-in-chief; and as each of
them dreams himself the suitable successor of him who is surrounded
with aides-de-camp, and who moves battalions and columns by his
nod; --- so with the rising generation of 'speculators'. They
see those whom they suppose nature and good laws made to black
shoes, or sweep chimneys or streets, rolling in carriages, or
sitting in palaces, surrounded by servants or slaves; and they
can see no earthly reason why they should not all do the same.
They forget the thousands, and tens of thousands, who in making
the attempt, have reduced themselves to beggary.
SECTION XVII. On Lawsuits .
In every situatin in life, avoid the law. Man's nature must be
changed, perhaps, before lawsuits will entirely cease; and yet
it is in the power of most men to avoid them, in a considerable
degree.
One excellent rule is, to have as little as possible to do with
those who are fond of litigation; and who, upon every slight occasion,
talk of an appeal to the law. This may be called a disease; and,
like many other diseases, it is contagious. Besides, these persons,
from their frequent litigations, contract a habit of using the
technical terms of the courts, in which they take a pride, and
therefore, as companions, peculiarly disgusting to men of sense.
To such beings a lawsuit is a luxury, instead of being regarded
as a source of anxiety, and a real scourge. Such men are always
of a quarrelsome disposition, and avail themselves of every opportunity
to indulge in that which is mischievous to their neighbors.
In thousands of instances, men go to law for the indulgence of
mere anger. The Germans are said to bring spite-actions against
one another, and to harass their poorer neighbors from motives
of pure revenge. But I hope this is a mistake; for I am unwilling
to think so ill of that intelligent nation.
Before you decide to go to law, consider well the cost, for if
you win your suit and are poorer than you were before, what do
you gain by it? You only imbibe a little additional anger against
your opponent; you injure him, but at the same time, injure yourself
more. Better to put up with the loss of one dollar than of two;
to which is to be added, all the loss of time, all the trouble,
and all the mortification and anxiety attending a lawsuit. To
set an attorney at work to worry and torment another man, and
alarm his family as well as himself, while you are sitting quietly
at home, is baseness. If a man owe you money which he cannot pay,
why add to his distress, without even the chance of benefitting
yourself? Thousands have injured themselves by resorting to the
law, while very few, indeed, ever bettered their condition by
it.
Nearly a million of dollars was once expended in England, during
the progress of a single lawsuit. Those who brought the suit expended
$444,000 to carry it through; and the opposite party was acquitted,
and only sentenced to pay the cost of the prosecution, amounted
to $318,754. Another was sustained in court fifty years, at an
enormous expense. In Meadville, in Pennsylvania, a petty law case
occurred in which the damages recovered were only ten dollars,
while the costs of court were one hundred. In one of the New England
States, a lawsuit occurred, which could not have cost the parties
less than $1000 each; and yet after all this expense, they mutually
agreed to take the matter out of court, and suffer it to end where
it was. Probably it was the wisest course they could possibly
have taken. It is also stated that a quarrel occurred between
two persons in Middlebury, Vermont, a few years since, about six
eggs, which was carried from one court to another, till it cost
the parties $4,000.
I am well acquainted with a gentleman who was once engaged in
a lawsuit, (than which none perhaps, was ever more just) where
his clain was one to two thousand dollars; but it fell into such
a train that a final decision could not have been expected in
many months; --- perhaps not in years. The gentleman was unwilling
to be detained and perplexed with waiting for a trial, and he
accordingly apid the whole amount of costs to that time, amounting
to $150, went about his business, and believes, to this hour,
that it was the wisest course he could have pursued.
A spirit of litigation often disturbs the peace of a whole neighborhood,
perpetually, for several generations; and the hostile feeling
thus engendered seems to be transmitted, like the color of the
eyes or the hair, from father to son. Indeed is not unfrequently
happens, that a lawsuit in a neighborhood, a society, or even
a church, awakens feelings of discord, which never terminate,
but at the death of the parties concerned.
How ought young men, then, to avoid, as they would a pestilence,
this fiend-like spirit! How ought they to labor to settle all
disputes --- should disputes unfortunately arise, --- without
this tremendous resort! On the strength of much observation, ---
not experience, for I have been saved the pain of learning in
that painful school, in this subject,--- I do not hesitate to
recommend the settlement of such difficulties by arbitration.
One thing however should be remembered. Would you dry up the river
of discord, you must first exhaust the fountains and rills which
form it. The moment you indulge one impassioned or angry feeling
against your fellow being, you have taken a step in the high road
which leads to litigation, war, and murder. Thus it is, as I have
already told you, that "He that hateth his brother is a murderer.'
I have heard a father --- for he hath the name of parent, though
he little deserved it --- gravely contend that there was no such
thing as avoiding quarrels and lawsuits. He thought there was
one thing, however, which might prevent them, which was to take
the litigous individual and 'tar and feather' him without ceremony.
How often is it true that mankind little know 'what manner of
spirit they are of;' and to how many of us will this striking
reproof of the Savior apply!
Multitudes of men have been in active business during a long life,
and yet avoided everything in the shape of a lawsuit. 'What man
has done, man may do;' in this respect, at the least.
SECTION XVIII. On Hard Dealing .
Few thing s are more common among business-doing men, than hard
dealing; yet few things reflect more dishonor on a Christian community.
It seems, in general, to be regarded as morally right, --- in
defiance of all rules, whether golden or not, --- to get as 'good
a bargain' in trade, as possible; and this is defended as unavoidable,
on account of the state of society! But what produced this state
of society? Was it not the spirit of avarice? What will change
it for the better? Nothing but the renunciation of this spirit,
and a willingness to sacrifice, in this respect, for the public
welfare.
We are pagans in this matter, in spite of our professions. It
would be profitable for us to take lessions on this subject from
the Mohammedans. They never have, it is said, but one price for
an article; and to aks the meanest shopkeeper to lower his price,
is to insult him. Would this were the only point, in which the
Christian community are destined yet to learn even from the Mohammedans.
To ask one price and take another, or to offer one price and give
another, besides being a loss of time, is highly dishonorable
to the parties. It is, in fact, a species of lying; and it answers
no one advantageous purpose, either to the buyer or seller. I
hope that every young man will start in life with a resolution
never to be hard in his dealings.
'It is an evil which will correct itself;' say thouse who wish
to avail themselves of its present advantages a little longer.
But when and where did a general evil correct itself? When or
where was an erroneous practice pemanently removed, except by
a change of public sentiment? And what has ever produced a change
in the public sentiment but the determination of individuals,
or their combined action?
While on this topic, I will hazard the assertion --- even at the
risk of its being though misplaced --- that great efforts are
yet to be produced on public opinion, in this country, by associations
of spirited and intelligent young men. I am not now speaking of
associations for political purposes, though I am not sure that
even those might not be usefully conducted; but of associations
for mutual improvement, and for the correction and elevation of
the public morals. The "Boston Young Men's Society," afford a
specimen of what may be done in this way; and numerous associations
of the kind have sprung up and are springing up in various parts
of the country. Judiciously managed, they must inevitably do good;
--- though it should not be forgotten that they may also be productive
of immense evil.
On Amusements and Indulgences.
-------------
SECTION I. On Gaming .
EVEN Voltaire asserts that 'every gambler is, has been, or will
be a robber.' Few practices are more ancient, few more general,
and few, if any, more pernicious than gaming. An English writer
has ingeniously suggested that the Devil himself might have been
the first player, and that he contrived theplan of introducing
games among men, to afford them temporary amusement, and divert
their attention from themselves. 'What numberless disciples,'
he adds, 'of his sable majesty, might we not count in our own
metropolis!'
Whether his satanic majext has any very direct agency in this
matter or not, one thing is certain; --- gamins is opposed to
the happiness of mankind, and ought, in every civilized country,
to be suppressed by public opinion. By gaming, however, I here
refer to those cases only in which property is at stake, to be
won or lost. The subject of diversions will be considered in another
place.
Gaming is an evil, because, in the first place, it is
a practice which produces nothing. He who makes two blades of
grass grow where but one grew before, has usually been admitted
to be a public benefactor; for he is a producer. So is he who
combines or aranges these productions in a useful manner,--- I
mean the mechanic, manufacturer, &c. He is equally a public benefactor,
too, who produces mental or moral wealth, as well as physical.
In gaming, it is true, property is shifted from one individual
to another, and here and there one probably gains more than he
loses; but nothing is actually made, or produced. If the whole
human family were all skilful gamesters, and should play constantly
for a year, there would not be a dollar mor in the world at the
end of theyear, than there was at its commencement. On the contrary,
is it not obvious that therer would be much less, besides even
an immense loss of time? *
But, secondly, gaming favors corruption of manners. It is difficult
to trace the progress of the gamester's mind, from the time he
commences his downward course, but we know too well the goal at
which he is destined to arrive. There may be exceptions, but not
many; generally speaking,
*Every man who enjoys the privileges of civilized society, owes
it to that society to earn as much as he can; or, in other words,
improve every minute of his time. He who loses an hour, or a minute,
is the price of that hour debtor to the community. Moreover, it
is a debt which he can never repay.
every gamester, sooner or later travels the road to perdition,
and often adds to his own wo, by dragging others along with him.
Thirdly, it discourages industry. He who is accustomed to receive
large sums at once, which bear no sort of proportion to the labor
by which they are obtained, will gradually come to regard the
moderate but constant and certain rewards of industrious exertion
as insipid. He is also in danger of falling into the habit of
paying an undue regard to hazard or chance, and of becoming devoted
to the doctrine of fatality.
As to the few who are skilful enough to gain more, on the whole,
than they lose, scarcely one of them pays any regard to prudence
or economy in his expenditures. What is thus lightly acquired,
is lightly disposed of. Or if, in one instance is a thousand,
it happens otherwise, the result is still unfavorable. It is but
to make the miser still more a miser, and the covetous only the
more so. Man is so constituted as to be unable to bear, with safety,
a rapid accumulation of property. To the truth of this, all history
attests, whether ancient or modern, sacred or profane.
The famous philosopher Locke, in his 'Thoughts on Education,'
thus observes: 'It is certain, gaming leaves no satisfaction behind
it to those who reflect when it si over; and it no way profits
either body or mind. As to their estimates, it it strike so deep
as to concern them, it is a trade then, and not a recreation,
wherein few thrive; and at best a thriving gamester has but a
poor trade of it, who fills his pockets at the price of his reputation.'
In regard to the criminality of the practice, a late writer has
the following striking remarks.
'As to gaming, it is always criminal, either in itself or in its
tendancy. The basis of it is covetousness; a desire to take from
others something for which you have neither given, nor intend
to give an equivalent. No gamble was ever yet a happy man, and
few gamblers have escaped being positively miserable. Remember
too, that to game for nothing is still gaming; and naturally leads
to gaming for something. It is sacrificing time, and that, too,
for the worst of purposes.
'I have kept house for nearly forty years; I have reared a family;
I have entertained as many friends as most people; and I never
had cards, dice, a chess board, nor any implement of gaming under
my roof. The hours that young men spend in this way, are hours
murdured; precious hours that ought to be spent either in reading
or in writing; or in rest; preparatory to the duties of the dawn.
'Though I do not agree with these base flatterers who declare
the army to be the best school for statesmen, it is certainly
a school in which we learn, experimentally, many useful lessons;
and in this school I learned that men fond of gaming, are rarely,
if ever, trust-worthy. I have known many a decent man rejected
in the way of promotion, only because he was addicted to gaming.
Men, in that state of life, cannot ruin themselves by gamin, for
they possess no fortune, nor money; but the taste for gaming is
always regarded as an indication of a radically bad disposition;
and I can truly say that I never in my whole life -- and it has
been a long and eventful one -- knew a man fond of gaming, who
was not, in some way or other, unworthy of confidence. This vice
creeps on by very slow degrees, till, at last, it becomes an ungovernable
passion, swallowing up every good and kind feeling of the heart.'
For my own part I know not the names of cards; and could never
take interest enough in card-playing to remember them. I have
always wondered how sober and intelligent people, who have consciences,
and believe the doctrine of accountability to God -- how professing
Christians even, as is the case in some parts of this country,
can sit whole evenings at cards. Why, what notions have they of
the value of time? Can they conceive of Him, whose example we
are bound to follow, as engaged in this way? The thought should
shock us! What a Herculean task Christianity has yet to accomplish!
The excess of this vice has caused even the overthrow of empires.
It leads to conspiracies, and creates conspirators. Men overwhelmed
with debt, are always ready to obey the orders of any bold cheiftain
who may attempt a decisive stroke, even agains the government
itself. Catiline had very soon under his command an army of scoundrels.
'Every man,' say Sallust, 'who by his follies or losses at the
gaming table had consumed the inheritance of his fathers, and
all who were sufferers by such misery, were the friends of this
perverse man.'
Perhaps this vice has nowhere been carried to greater extent than
in France. There it has its administration, its chief, its stockholders,
its officers, and its priests. It has is domestics, its pimps,
its spies, its informers, its assassins, its bullies, its aiders,
its abettors, -- in fact, its scoundrels of every description;
particularly its hireling swindlers, who are paid for decoying
the unwary into this 'hell upon earth,' so odious to morality,
and so destructive to virtue and Christianity.
In England, this vice has at all times been looked upon as one
of pernicious consequence to the commonwealth, and has, therefore,
long been prohibited. The money lost in this way, is even recoverable
again by law. Some of the laws on this subject were enacted as
early as the time of Queen Anne, and not a few of the penalties
are very severe. Every species of gambling is strictly forbidden
in the British Army, and occasionally punished with great severity,
by order of the commander in chief. These facts show the state
of public opinion in that country, in regard to the evil tendancy
of this practice.
Men of immense wealth have, in some instances, entered gambling
houses, and in the short space of an hour have found themselves
reduced to absolute beggary. 'Such men often lose not only what
their purses or their bankers can supply, but houses, lands, equipage,
jewels; in fine, every thing of which they call themselves masters,
even to their very clothes; then perhaps a pistol terminates their
mortal career.'
Fifteen hours a day are devoted by many infatuated persons in
some countries to this unhappy practice. In the middle of the
day, while the wife directs with prudence and economy the administration
of her husband's house, he abandons himself to become the prey
of rapacious midnight and mid-day robbers. The result is, that
he contracts debts, is stripped of his property, and his wife
and children are sent to the alms-house, whilst he, perhaps, perishes
in prison.
My life has been chiefly spent in a situation where comparatively
little of this vice prevails. Yet, I have known one individual
who divided his time between hunting and gaming. About four days
in the week were regularly devoted to the latter practice. From
breakfast to dinner, from dinner to tea, from tea to nine o'clock,
this was his regular employment, and was pursued inces- santly.
The man was about seventy years of age. He did not play for very
large sums, it is true; seldom more than five to twenty dollars;
and it was his uniform practice to retire precisely at nine o'clock,
and without supper.
Generally, however, the night is more especially devoted to this
employment. I have occasionally been at public houses, or on board
vessels where a company was playing, and have known many hundreds
of dollars lost in a single night. In one instance, the most horrid
midnight oaths and blasphemy were indulged. Besides, there is
an almost direct connection between the gambling table and brothel;
and the one is seldom long unaccompanied by the other.
Scarcely less obvious and direct is the connection between this
vice and intemperance. If the drunkard is not always a gamester,
the gamester is almost without exception intemperate. There is
for the most part a union of the three -- horrible as the alliance
may be -- I mean gambling, intemperance, and debauchery.
There is even a species of intoxication attendant on gambling.
Rede, in speaking of one form of this vice which prevails in Europe,
says; 'It is, in fact, a PROMPT MURDERER; irregular as all other
games of hazard -- rapid as lightning in its movements -- its
strokes succeed each other with an activity that redoubles the
ardor of the player's blood, and often deprives him of the advantage
of reflection. In fact, a man after half an hour's play, who for
the whole nigth may not have taken any thing stronger than water,
has all the appearance of drunkeness.' And who has not seen the
flushed cheek and the red eye, produced simply by the excitement
of an ordinary gaming table?
It is an additional proof of the evil of gaming that every person
devoted to it, feels it to be an evil. Why then doe he not refrain?
Because he has sold himself a slave to the deadly habit, as effectually
as the drunkard to his cups.
Burgh, in his Dignity of Human Nature, sums up the evils of this
practice in a single paragraph:
'Gaming is an amusement wholly unworthy of rational beings, having
neither the pretence of exercising the body, of exerting ingenuity,
or of giving any natural pleasure, and owing it entertainment
wholly to an unnatural and vitiated taste; --- the cause of infinite
loss of time, of enormous destruction of money, of irritating
the passions, of stirring up avarice, of innumerable sneaking
tricks and frauds, of encouraging idleness, of disgusting people
against their proper employments, and of sinking and debasing
all that is truly great and valuable in the mind.'
Let me warn you, then, my young readers, --- nay, more, let me
urge you never to enter this dreadful road. Shun it as you would
the road to destruction. Take not the first step, -- the moment
you do, all may be lost. Say not that you can command yourselves,
and can stop when you approach the confines of danger. So thousands
have thought as sincerely as yourselves --- and yet they fell.
'The probabilities that we shall fall where so many have fallen,'
says Dr. Dwight, ' are millions to one; and the contrary opinion
is only the dream of lunacy.'
When you are inclined to think yourselves safe, consider the multitudes
who once felt themselves equally so, have been corrupted, distressed,
and ruined by gaming, both for this world, and that which is to
come. Think how many families have been plunged by it into beggary,
and overwhelmed by it in vice. Think how many persons have become
liars at the gaming table; how many perjured; how many drunkards;
how many blasphemers; how many suicides. 'If Europe,' said Montesquieu,
'is to be ruined, it will be ruined by gaming.' If the United
States are to be ruined, gaming in some of its forms will be a
very efficient agent in accomplishing the work.
Some of the most common games practised in the country, are cards,
dice, billiards, shooting matches, and last, though not least,
lotteries. Horse-racing and cockfighting are still in use in some
parts of the United States, though less so than formerly. In addition
to the general remarks already made, I now proceed to notice a
few of the particular forms of this vice.
1. CARDS, DICE, AND BILLIARDS.
The foregoing remarks will be applicable to each of these three modes of gambling. But in regard to cards, there seems to be something peculiarly enticing. It is on this account that youth are required to be doubly cautious on this point. So bewitching were cards and dice regarded in England, that penalties were laid on those who should be found playing with them, as early as the reign of George II. Card playing, however, still prevails in Europe, and to a considerable extent in the United States. There is a very common impression abroad, that the mere playing at cards is in itself innocent: that the danger consists in the tendancy to excess; and against excess most people imagine themselves sufficiently secure. But as 'the best throw at dice, is to throw them away,' so the best move with cards would be, to commit them to the flames.
2. SHOOTING MATCHES.
This is a disgraceful practice, which was formerly in extensive
use in these States at particular seasons, especially on the day
preceding the annual Thanksgiving. I am sorry to say, that there
are places where it prevvails, even now. Numbers who have nothing
better to do, collect together, near some tavern or grog-shop,
for the sole purpose of trying their hand at shooting fowls. Tied
to a stake at a short distance, a poor innocent and helpless fowl
is set as a mark to furnish sport for idle men and boys.
Could the creature be put out of its misery by the first discharge
of the musket, the evil would not appear so great. But this is
seldom the case. Several discharges are usually made, and between
each, a running, shouting, and jumping of the company takes place,
not unfrequently mingles with oaths and curses.
The object of this infernal torture being at length despatched,
and suspended on the muzzle of the gun as a trophy of victory,
a rush is made to the bar or counter, and brandy and rum, accompanied
by lewd stories, and perhaps quarrelling and drunkeness, often
close the scene.
It rarely fails that a number of children are assembled on such
occasions, who listen with high glee to the conversation, whether
in the field or at the inn. If it be the grossest profaneness,
or the coursest obscenity, they will sometimes pride themselves
in imitating it, thinking it to be manly; and in a like spirit
will partake of the glass, and thus commence the drunkard's career.
-- This practice is conducted somewhat differently in different
places, but not essentially so.
It is much to the credit of the citizens of many parts of New
England that their good sense will not, any longer, tolerate a
practice so brutal, and scarcely exceeded in this respect by the
cockfighting in other parts of the country. As a substitute for
this practice a circle is drawn on a board or post, of a certain
size, and he who can hit within the circle, gains the fowl. This
is still a species of gaming, but is divested of much of the ferocity
and brutality of the former.
3. HORSERACING AND COCKFIGHTING.
It is only in particular sections of the United States that public
opinion tolerates these practices extensively. A horserace, in
New England, is a very rare occurrance. A cockfight, few among
us have ever witnessed. Wherever the cruel disposition to indulge
in seeing animals fight together is allowed, it is equally degrading
to human nature with that fondness which is manifested in other
countries for witnessing a bull fight. It is indeed the same disposition,
only existing in a smaller degree in the former case than in the
latter.
Montaigne thinks it a reflection upon human nature itself that
few people take delight in seeing beasts caress and play together,
while almost every one is pleased to see them lacerate and worry
one another.
Should your lot be cast in a region where any of these inhuman
practices prevail, let it be your constant and firm endeavor,
not merely to keep aloof from them yourselves, but to prevail
on all those over whom God may have given you influence, to avoid
them likewise. To enable you to face the public opinion when a
point of importance is at stake, it will be useful to consult
carefully the first chapter of this work.
I am sorry to have it in my power to state that in the year 1833
there was a bull fight four miles southward of Philadelphia. It
was attended by about 1500 persons; mostly of the very lowest
classes from the city. It was marked by many of the same evils
which attend these cruel sports in other countries, and by the
same reckless disregard of mercy towards the poor brutes who suffered
in the conflict. It is to be hoped, however, for the honor of
human nature, that the good sense of the community will not permit
this detestable custom to prevail.
SECTION II. On Lotteries .
Lotteries are a species of gambling; differing from other kinds
only in being tolerated either by the law of the land, or by that
of public opinion. The proofs of this assertion are innumerable.
Not only young men, but even married women have, in some instances,
become so addicted to ticket buying, as to ruin themselves and
their families.
From the fact that efforts have lately been made in several of
the most influential States in the Union to suppress them, it
might seem unnecessary, at first view, to mention this subject.
But although the letter of the law may oppose them, there is a
portion of our citizens who will continue to buy tickets clandestinely;
and consequently somebody will continue to sell them in the same
manner. Penalties will not suppress them all at once. It will
be many years before the evil can be wholly eradicated. The flood
does not cease at the moment when the windows of heaven are closed,
but continues, for some time, its ravages. It is necessary, therefore,
that the young should guard themselves against the temptations
which they hold out.
It may be said that important works, such as monuments, and churches,
have been completed by means of lotteries. I know it is so. But
the profits which arise from the sale of tickets are a tax upon
the community, and generally upon the poorer classes: or rather
they are a species of swindling. That good is sometimes done with
these ill-gotten gains, is admitted; but money procured in any
other unlawful, immoral, or criminal way, could be applied to
build bridges, roads, churches, &c. Would the advantages thus
secured, however, justify an unlawful means of securing them?
Does the end santify the means?
It is said, too, that individuals, as well as associations, have
been, in a few instances, greatly aided by prizes in lotteries.
Some bankruptcies have paid their debts, like honest men, with
them. This they might do with stolen money. But cases of even
this kind, are rare. The far greater part of the money drawn in
the form of prizes in lotteries, only makes its possessor more
avaricious, covetous, or oppressive than before. Money obtained
in this manner commonly ruins mind, body, or estate; sometimes
all three.
Lottery schemes have been issued in the single State of New York,
in twelve years, to the amount of $37,000,000. If other States
have engaged in the business, in the same proportion to their
population, the sum of all the schemes issued in the United States
within that time has been $240,000,000. A sum sufficient to maintain
in comfort, if not affluence, the entire population of some of
the smaller states for more than thirty years.
Now what has been gained by all of this? It is indeed true, that
the discount on this sum, amounting to $36,000,000, has been expended
in paying a set of men for one species of labor. If we suppose
their average salary to have been $500, no less than 6,000 clerks,
managers, &c., may have obtained by this means, a support during
the last twelve years. But what have the 6,000 men produced all
this while? Has not their whole time been spent in receiving small
sums (from five to fifty dollars) from individuals, putting them
together, as it where in a heap, and afterwards distributing a
part of it in sums, with few exceptions, equally small? --- Have
they added one dollar, or even one cent to the original stock?
I have already admitted, that he who makes two blades of grass
grow where only one grew before, is a benefactor to his country;
but those men have not done so much as that.
A few draw prizes, it has been admitted. Some of that few make
good use of them. But the vast majority are injured. They either
become less active and industrious, or more parsimonious and miserly;
and not a few become prodigals or bankrupts at once. In any of
these events, they are of course unfitted for the essential purposes
of human existance. It is not given to humanity to bear a sudden
acquisition of wealth. The best of men are endangered by it. As
in knowledge, so in the present case, what is gained by hard digging
is usually retained; and what is gained easily usually goes quickly.
There is this difference, however, that the moral character is
usually lost with the one, but not always with the other.
These are a part of the evils connected with lotteries. To compute
their sum total would be impossible. The immense waste of money
and time (and time is money) by those persons who are in the habit
of buying tickets, to say nothing of the cigars smoked, the spirits,
wine, and ale drank, the suppers eaten, and the money lost at
cards, while lounging about lottery offices, although even this
constitutes but a part of the waste, is absolutely incalculable.
The suffering of wives, and children, and parents, and brothers,
and sisters, together with that loss of health, and temper, and
reputation, which is either directly or indirectly connected,
would swell the sum to an amount sufficient to alarm every one,
who intends to be an honest, industrious, and respectable citizen.
It is yours, my young friends, to put a stop to this tremendous
evil. It is your duty, and it should be your pleasure, to give
that tone to the public sentiment, without which, in governments
like this, written laws are powerless.
Do not say that the influence of one person cannot effect much.
Remember that the power of example is almost omnipotent. In debating
whether you may not venture to buy one more ticket, remember that
if you do so, you adopt a course which, if taken by every other
individual in the United States (and who out of thirteen millions
has not the same right as yourself?) would give abundant support
to the whole lottery system, with all its horrors. And could you
in that case remain guiltless? Can the fountains of such a sickly
stream be pure? You would not surely condemn the waters of a mighty
river while you were one of a company engaged in filling the springs
and rills that unite to form it. Remember that just in proportion
as you contribute, by your example, to discourage this species
of gambling, just in the same proportion will you contribute to
stay in the progress of a tremendous scourge, and to enforce the
execution of good and salutary laws.
With this pernicious practice, I have always been decidedly at
war. I believe the system to be wholly wrong, and that those who
countenance it, in any way whatever, are wholly inexcusable.
SECTION III. On Theatres .
Much is said by the friends of theatres about what they might
be; and not a few persona indulge the hope that the theatre may
yet be made a school of morality. But my business at present is
with it as it is, and as it has hitherto been. The reader will
be more benefited by existing facts than sanguine anticipations,
or visionary predictions.
A German medical writer calculates that one in 150 of those who
frequently attend theatres become diseased and die, from the impurity
of the atmosphere. The reason is, that respiration contaminates
the air; and where large assemblies are collected in close rooms,
the air is corrupted much more rapidly than many are aware. Lavoisier,
the French chemist, states, that in a theatre, from the commencement
to the end of the play, the oxygen or vital air is diminished
in the proportion of from 27 to 21, or nearly one-fourth; and
consequently is in the same proportion less fit for respiration,
than is was before. This is probably the general truth; but the
number of persons present, and the amount of space, must determine,
in a great measure, the rapidity with which the air is corrupted.
The pit is the most unhealthy part of a play-house, because the
carbonic acid which is formed by respiration is heavier than atmospheric
air, and accumulates near the floor.
It is painful to look round on a gay audience of 1500 persons,
and consider that ten of this number will die in consequence of
breathing the bad air of the room so frequently, and so long.
But I believe this estimate is quite within bounds.
There are however other results to be dreaded. The practice of
going out of a heated, as well as an impure atmosphere late in
the evening, and often without sufficient clothing, exposes the
individual to cold, rheumatism, pleurisy, and fever. Many a young
lady, -- and I fear, not a few young gentlemen, -- get the consumption
by taking colds in this manner.
Not only the health of the body, but the mind and morals too,
are often injured. Dr. Griscom, of New York, in a report on the
causes of vice and crime in that city, made a few years since,
says; 'Among the causes of vicious excitement in our city, none
appear to be so powerful in their nature as theatrical amusements.
The number of boys and young men who have become determined thieves,
in order to procure the means of introduction to the theatres
and circuses, would appal the feelings of every virtuous mind,
could the whole truth be laid open before them.
'In the case of the feebler sex, the result is still worse. A
relish for the amusements of the theatre, without the means of
indulgence, becomes too often a motive for listening to the first
suggestion of the seducer, and thus prepares the unfortunate captive
of sensuality for the haunts of infamy, and a total destitution
of all that is valuable in the mind and character of woman.'
The following fact is worthy of being considered by the friends
and patrons of theatres. During the progress of one of the most
ferocious revolutions which ever shocked the face of heaven, theatres,
in Paris alone, multiplied from six to twenty-five. Now one of
two conclusions follow from this: Either the spirit of the times
produced the institutions, or the insititutions cherished the
spirit of the times; and this will certainly prove that they are
either the parents of vice or the offspring of it.
The philosopher Plato assures us, that 'plays raise the passions,
and prevent the use of them; and of course are dangerous to morality.'
'The seeing of Comedies,' says Aristotle, 'ought to be forbidden
to young people, till age and discipline have made them proof
against debauchery.'
Tacitus says, 'The German women were guarded against danger, and
preserved their purity by having no play-houses among them.'
Even Ovid represents theatrical amusements as a grand source of
corruption, and he advised Augustus to suppress them.
The infidel philosopher Rousseau, declared him- self to be of
opinion, that the theatre is, in all cases, a school of vice.
Though he had himself written for the stage, yet, when it was
proposed to establish a theatre in the city of Geneva, he wrote
against the project with zeal and great force, and expressed the
opinion that every friend of pure morals ought to oppose it.
Sir John Hawkins, in his life of Johnson, observe: -- 'Although
it is said of plays that they teach morality, and of the stage
that it is the mirror of human life, these assertions are mere
declamation, and have no foundation in truth or experience. On
the contrary, a play-house, and the regions about it, are the
very hot-beds of vice.'
Archbishop Tillotson, after from pointed and forcible reasoning
against it, pronounces the play-house to be 'the devil's chapel,'
'a nursery of licentiousness and vice,' and 'a recreation which
ought not to be allowed among a civilized, much less a Christian
people.'
Bishop Collier solemnly declared, that he was persuaded that 'nothing
had done more to debauch the age in which he lived, than the stage
poets and the play-house.'
Sir Matthew Hale, having in early life experienced the pernicious
effects of attending the theatre, resolved, when he came to London,
never to see a play again, and to this resolution he adhered through
life.
Burgh says; 'What does it avail that the piece itself be unexceptionable,
if it is to be interlarded with lewd songs or dances, and tagged
at the conclusion with a ludicrous and beastly farce? I cannot
therefore, in conscience, give youth any other advice than to
avoid such diversions as cannot be indulged without the utmost
danger of perverting their taste, and corrupting their morals.'
Dr. Johnson's testimony on this subject is nearly as pointed as
that of Archbishop Tillotson; and Lord Kaines speaks with much
emphasis of the 'poisonous influence,' of theatres.
Their evil tendancy is seldom better illustrated than by the following
anecdote, from an individual in New York, on whose statements
we may place the fullest reliance.
'F. B. a young man of aobut twenty-two, called on the writer in
the fall of 1831 for employment. He was a journeyman printer;
was recently from Kentucky; and owing to his want of employment,
as he said, was entirely destitute, not only of the comforts,
but the necessities of life. I immediately procured him a respectable
boarding house, gave him employment, and rendered his situation
as comfortable as my limited means would permit.
'He had not been with me long, before he expressed a desire to
go to the theatre. Some great actor was to perform on a certain
night, and he was very anxious to see him. I warned him of the
consequences, and told him, my own experience and observation
had convinced me that it was a very dangerous place for young
men to visit. But my warning did not good. He neglected his business,
and went. I reproved him gently, but retained him in my employment.
He continued to go, notwithstanding all my remonstrances to the
contrary. At length my business suffered so much from his neglecting
to attend it as he ought, that I was under the necessity of discharging
him in self-defence. He got temporary employment in different
offices of the city, where the same fault was found with him.
Immediately after, he accepted the situation of bar-keeper in
a porter house or tavern attached to the theatre. His situation
he did not hold for long --- from what cause, I know not.
'He again applied to me for work; but as his habits were not reformed,
I did not think it prudent to employ him, although I said or did
nothing to injure him in the estimation of others. Disappointed
in procuring employment in a business to which he had served a
regular apprenticeship, being pennyless, and seeing no bright
prospect for the future, he enlisted as a common soldier in the
United States' service.
'He had not been in his new vocation long, before he was called
upon, with other troops, to defend our citizens from the attacks
of the Indians. But when the troops had nearly reached their place
of destination, that 'invisible scourge', the cholera, made its
appearance among them. Desertion was the consequence, and among
others who fled, was the subject of this article.
'He returned to New York -- made application at serveral different
offices for employment, without success. In a few days news came
that he had been detected in pilfering goods from the house of
his landlord. A warrent was immediately issued for him -- he was
seized, taken to the police office, -- convicted, and sentenced
to six months' hard labor in the penitentiary. His name being
published in the newspapers, in connection with those of other
convicts -- was immediately recognized by the officer under whom
he had enlisted. -- This officer made proceeds to the city --
claims the prisoner -- and it is at length agreed that he shall
return to the United States' service, where he shall, for the
first six months, be compelled to roll sand as a punishment for
desertion, serve out the five years for which he had enlisted,
and then be given up to the city authorities, to suffer for the
crime of pilfering.
'It is thus that we see a young man, of good natural abilities,
scarcely twenty-three years of age, compelled to lose six of the
most valuable years of his life, besides ruining a fair reputation,
and bringing disgrace upon his parents and friends, from the apparently
harmless desire of seeing dramatic performances. Ought not this
be a warning to others, who are travelling on, imperceptibly in
the same road to ruin?'
Theatres are of ancient date. One built of wood, in the time of
Cicero and Caesar, would contain 80,000 persons. The first stone
theatre in Rome, was built by Pompey, and would contain 40,000.
There are one or two in Europe, at the present time, that will
accommodate 4000 or 5000.
In England, until 1660, public opinion did not permit females
to perform in theatres, but the parts were performed by boys.
If theatres have a reforming tendancy, this result might have
been expected in France, where they have so long been popular
and flourishing. In 1807, there were in France 166 theatres, and
3968 performers. In 1932 there were in Paris alone 17, which could
accomodate 21,000 persons. But we do not find that they reformed
the Parisians; and it is reasonable to expect that they never
will.
Let young men remember, that in this, as well as in many other
things, there is only one point of security, viz. total abstinence.
SECTION IV. Use of Tobacco .
1. SMOKING.
Smoking has every where, in Europe and America, become a tremendous
evil; and if we except Holland and Germany, nowhere more so than
in this country. Indeed we are already first treading in the steps
of those countries, and the following vivid description of the
miseries which this filthy practice entails on the Germans will
soon be quite applicable to the people of the United States, unless
we can induce the rising generation to turn the current of public
opinion against it.
'This plague, like the Egyptian plague of frogs, is felt everywhere,
and in everything. It poisons the streets, the clubs, and the
coffee-houses; --- furniture, clothes, equipage, persons, are
redolent of the abomination. It makes even the dulness of the
newspapers doubly narcotic: every eatable and drinkable, all that
can be seen, felt, heard or understood, is saturated with tobacco;
-- the very air we breathe is but a conveyance for this poison
into the lungs; and every man, woman, and child, rapidly acquires
the complexion of a boiled chicken. From the hour of their waking,
if nine-tenths of their population can be said to awake at all,
to the hour of their lying down, the pipe is never out of their
mouths. One mighty fumigation reigns, and human nature is smoked
dry by tens of thousands of square miles. The German physiologists
compute, that of 20 deaths, between eighteen and thirtyfive years,
10 originate in the waste of the constitution by smoking.'
This is indeed a horrid picture; but when it is considered that
the best estimates which can be made concur in showing that tobacco,
to the amount of $16,000,000, is consumed in the United States
annually, and that by far the greater part of this is in smoking
cigars, there is certainly room for gloomy apprehensions. What
though we do not use the dirty pipe of the Dutch and Germans?
If we only use the tobacco, the mischief is effectively accomplished.
Perhaps it were even better that we should lay out part of our
money for pipes, than to spend the whole for tobacco.
Smoking is indecent, filthy, and rude, and to many individuals
highly offensive. when first introduced into Europe, in the 16th
century, its use was prohibited under very severe penalties, which
in some countries amounted to cutting off the nose. And how much
better is the practice of voluntarily burning up their noses,
by making a chimney of them? I am happy, however, in being able
to state, that this unpardonable practise is now abandoned in
many of the fashionable societies in Europe.
There is one remarkable fact to be observed in speaking on this
subject. No parent ever teaches his child the use of tobacco,
or even encourages it, except by his example. Thus the smoker
virtually condemns himself in the very 'thing which he alloweth.'
It is not precisely so in the case of spirits; for many parents
directly encourage the use of that.
Tobacco is one of the most powerful poisons in nature. Even the
physician, some of whose medicines are so active that a few grains,
or a few drops, will destroy life at once, finds tobacco too powerful
for his use; and in those cases where it is most clearly required,
only makes it a last resort. Its daily use, in any form, deranged,
and sometimes destroys the stomach and nerves, produces weakness,
low spirits, dyspepsy, vertigo, and many other complaints. These
are its more immediate effects.
Its remoter effects are scarcely less dreadful. It dries the mouth
and nostrils, and probably the brain; benumbs the senses of smell
and taste, impairs the hearing, and ultimately the eye-sight.
Germany, a smoking nation, is at the same time a spectacled nation.
More than all this; it dries the blood; creates thirst and loss
of appetite; and in this and other ways, often lays the foundation
of intemperance. In fact, not a few persons are made drunkards
by this very means. Dr. Rush has a long chapter on this subject
in one of his volumes, which is well worth your attention. In
addition to all this, it has often been observed that in fevers
and other diseases, medicines never operate well in constitutions
which have been accustomed to the use of tobacco.
Of the expense which the use of tobacco involves, I have already
spoken. Of the $16,000,000 thus expended, $9,000,000 are supposed
to be for smoking Spanish cigars; $6,500,000 for smoking American
tobacco, and for chewing it, and $500,000 for snuff.
Although many people of real intelligence become addicted to this
practice, as is the case especially among the learned in Germany,
yet it cannot be denied that in general, those individuals and
nations whose mental powers are the weakest, are (in proportion
to their means of acaquiring it) most enslaved to it. To be convinced
of the truth of this remark, we have only to open our eyes to
facts as they exist around us.
All ignorant and savage nations indulge in extra-ordinary stimulants,
(and tobacco among the rest,) whenever they have the means of
obtaining them; and in proportion to their degredation. Thus it
is with the native tribes of North America; thus with the natives
of North America; thus with the natives of Africa, Asia, and New
Holland; thus with the Cretins and Gypsies. Zimmerman says, that
the latter 'suspended their predatory excursions, and on an appointed
evening in every week, assemble to enjoy their guilty spoils in
the fumes of strong waters and tobacco.' Here they are represented
as indulging in idle tales about the character and conduct of
those around them; a statement which can very easily be believed
by those who have watched the effects produced by the fumes of
stimulating beverages much more 'respectable' than spirits or
tobacco smoke.
The quantity which is used in civlized nations is almost incredibly
great. England alone imported, in 1829, 22,400,000 lbs. of unmanufactured
tobacco. There is no narcotic plant -- not even the tea plant
-- in such extensive use, unless it is the betel of India and
the adjoining countries. This is the leaf of a climing plant resembling
ivy, but of the pepper tribe. The people of the east chew it so
incessantly, and in such quantities, that their lips become quite
red, and their teeth black -- showing that it has affected their
whole systems. They carry it about with them in boxes, and offer
it to each other in compliment, as Europeans do snuff; and it
is considered uncivil and unkind to refuse to accept it and chew
it. This is done by the women as well as the men. Were we disposed,
we might draw from this fact many important lessons on our own
favored stimulants.
In view of the great and growing evil of smoking, the practical
question arises; 'What shall be done?' The answer is -- Render
it unfashionable and disreputable. Do you ask, 'How is this to
be accomplished?' Why, how has alcohol been rendered unpopular?
Do you still say, 'One person alone cannot affect much?' But so
might any person have said a few years ago, in regard to spirits.
Individuals must commence the work of reformation in the one case,
as well as in the other; and success will then be equally certain.
2. CHEWING.
Many of the remarks already made apply with as much force to the
use of tobacco in every form, as the mere habit of smoking. But
I have a few additional thoughts on chewing this plant.
There are never wanting excuses for any thing which we feel strongly
inclined to do. Thus a thousand little frivolous pleas are used
for chewing tobacco. One man of reputed good sense told me that
his tobacco probably cost him nothing, for if he did not use it,
he 'should be apt to spend as much worth of time in picking and
eating summer fruits, as would pay for it.' Now I do not like
the practice of eating even summer fruits between meals; but they
are made to be eaten moderately, no doubt; and if people will
not eat them with their food, it is generally a less evil to eat
them between meals, than not at all. But the truth is, tobacco
chewers never relish these things at any time.
The only plea for chewing this noxious plant, which is entitled
to a serious consideration is, that it tends to preserve the teeth.
This is the strong hold of tobacco chewers -- not, generally,
when they commence the practice, but as soon as they find themselves
slaves to it.
Now the truth appears to be this:
3. TAKING SNUFF.
I have seen many individuals who would not, on any account whatever,
use spirits, or chew tobacco; but who would not hesitate to dry
up their nasal membranes, injure their speech, induce catarrhal
affections, and besmear their face, clothes, books, &c. with snuff.
This, however common, appears to me ridiculous. Almost all the
serious evils which result from smoking and chewing, follow the
practice of snuffing powdered tobacco into the nose. Even Chesterfield
opposes it, when after characterizing all use of tobacco or snuff,
in any form, as both vulgar and filthy, he adds: 'Besides, snuff
takers are generally very dull and shallow people, and have recourse
to it merely as a fillip to the brain; by all means, therefore,
avoid the filthy custom.' This censure, though rather severe,
is equally applicable to smoking and chewing.
Naturalists say there is one species of maggot fly that mistakes
the odor of some kinds of snuff for that of putrid substances,
and deposits its eggs in it. In warm weather, therefore, it must
be dangerous to take snuff which has been exposed to these insects;
for the eggs sometimes hatch in two hours, and the most tremendous
consequences might follow. And it is not impossible that some
of the most painful diseases to which the human race are liable,
may have been occasionally produced by this or a similar cause.
The 'tic douloureux' is an example.
A very common disease in sheep is known to be produced by worms
in cavities which communicate with the nose. Only a little acquaintance
with the human structure would show that there are a number of
cavities in the bones of the face and head, some of which will
hold half an ounce each, which communicate with the nose, and
into which substances received into this organ occasionally fall,
but cannot escape as easily as they enter.
SECTION V. Useful Recreations .
The young, I shall be told, must and will have their recreations;
and if they are to be denied every species of gaming, what shall
they do? 'You would not, surely, have them spend their leisure
hours in gratifying the senses; in eating, drinking, and licentiousness.'
By no means. Recreations they must have; active recreation, too,
in the open air. Some of the most appropriate are playing ball,
quoits, ninepins, and other athletice exercises; but in no case
for money, or any similar consideration. Skating is a good excercise
in its proper season, if followed with great caution. Dancing,
for those who sit much, such as pupils in school, tailors and
shoemakers, would be an appropriate exercise, if it were not perpetually
abused. By assembling in large crowds, continuing it late at evening,
and then sallying out in a perspiration, into the cold or damp
night air, and thousand times more mischief has been done, than
all the benefit which it has afforded would balance. It were greatly
to be wished that this exercise might be regulated by those rules
which human experience has indicated, insteadof being subject
to the whim and caprice of fashion. It is a great pity an exercise
so valuable to the sedentary, and especially those who sit much,
of both sexes, should be so managed as to injure half the world,
and excite against it the prejudices of the other half.
Ihave said that the young must have recreations, and generally
in the open air. The reason why they should usually be conducted
in the open air, is, that their ordinary occupations too frequently
confine them within doors, and of course, in an atmosphere more
or less vitiated. Farmers, gardeners, rope makers, and persons
whose occupations are of an active nature, do not need out-of-doors
sports at all. Their recreations should be by the fire side. Not
with cards or dice, nor in the company of those whose company
is not worth having. But the book, the newspaper, conversation,
or the lyceum, will be the appropriate recreations for these classes,
and will be found in the highest degree satisfactory. For the
evening, the lyceum is particularly adapted, because laboring
young men are often too much fatigued at night, to think, closely;
and the lyceum, or conversation, will be more agreeable, and not
less useful. But the family circle may of itself constitute a
lyceum, and the book or the newspaper may be made the subject
of discussion. I have known the heads of families in one neighborhood
greatly improved, and the whole neighborhood derive an impulse,
from the practice of meeting one evening in the week, to read
the news together, and converse on the more interesting intelligence
of the day.
Some strongly recommend 'the sports of the field,' and talk with
enthusiasm of 'hunting, coursing, fishing;' and of 'dogs and horses.'
But these are no recreations for me. True they are healthy to
the body; but not so for the morals. This I say confidently, although
some of my readers may smile, and call it an affectation of sensibility.
Yet with Cowper,
'I would not enter on my list of friends
The man who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.'
If the leading objects of field sports were to procure sustenance,
I would not say a word. But the very term sports, implies something
different. And shall we sport with life -- even that of the inferior
animals? That which we cannot give, shall we prosumptuously dare
to take away, and as our only apology say, 'Am I not in sport?'
Besides, other amusements equally healthy, and if we are accustomed
to them, equally pleasant, and much more rational, can be substituted.
What they are, I hae mentioned, at least in part. How a sensible
man, and especially a Christian, can hunt or fish, when he would
not do it, were it not for the pleasure he enjoys in the cruelty
it involves; -- how, above all, a wise father can recommend it
to his children, or to others, I am utterly unable to conceive!
CHAPTER IV.
Improvement of the Mind.
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SECTION I. Habit of Observation .
'YOUR eyes open, your thoughts close, will go safe through the
world,' is a maxim which some have laid down; but it savors rather
too much of selfishness. 'You may learn from others all you can,
but you are to give them as little opportunity as possible for
learning from you,' seems to the be language, properly interpreted.
Suppose every one took the advice, and endeavored to keep his
thoughts close, for fear he should either be misunderstood, or
thought wanting in wisdom; what would become of the pleasures
of conversation? Yet these make up a very considerable item of
the happiness of human life.
I have sometimes thought with Dr. Rush, that taciturnity, though
often regarded as a mark of wisdom, is rather the effect of a
'want of ideas.' The doctor mentions the taciturnity of the American
Indians as a case in point. Even in civilized company, he believes
that with one or two exceptions, an indisposition to join in conversation
'in nine cases out of ten, is a mark of stupidity,' and presently
adds; 'Ideas, whether acquired from books or by reflection, produce
a plethora in the mind, which can only be relieved by depletion
from the pen or tongue.'
'Keep your eyes open,' however, is judicious advice. How many
who have the eyes of their body open, keep the eyes of the soul
perpetually shut up. "Seeing, they see not.' Such persons, on
arriving at the age of three or four score, may lay claim to superior
wisdom on account of superior age, but their claims ought not
to be admitted. A person who has the eyes both of his mind and
body open, will derive more wisdom from one year's experience,
than those who neglect to observe from themselves, from ten. Thus
at thirty, with ten years acquintance with men, manners and things,
a person may be wiser than another at three times thirty, with
seven times ten years of what he calls experience. Sound practical
wisdom cannot, it is true, be rapidly acquired anywhere but in
the school of experience, but the world abounds with men who are
old enough to be wise, and yet are very ignorant. Let it be your
fixed resolution not to belong to this class.
But in order to have the mental eyes open, the external eyes should
be active. We should, as a general rule, se what is going on around
us. There are indeed seasons, occurring in the school or in the
closet, when abstraction is desirable; but speaking generally,
we should 'keep our eyes open.'
It is hence easy to see why some men who are accounted learned,
are yet in common life very great fools. Is it not because their
eyes have been shut to every thing but books, and schools, and
colleges, and universities?
The late Dr. Dwight was an eminent instance of keeping up an acquintance
both with books, and the world in which he lived and acted. In
his walks, or wherever he happened to be, nothing could escape
his eye. 'Not a bird could fly up,' says one of his students,
' but he observed it.' And he endeavored to establish the same
habit of observation in others. Riding in a chaise, on day, with
a student of his, who was apt to be abstracted from surrounding
things, he suddenly exclaimed, almost indignant at his indifference,
'S --- keep your eyes open!' The lesson was not lost. It made
a deep impression on the mind of the student. Though by no means
distinguished in his class, he has outstripped many, if not the
most of them, in actual and practical usefulness; and to this
hour, he attributes much of his success to the foregoing circumstances.
There is a pedantry in these things, however, which is not only
fulsome, but tends to defeat our very purpose. It is not quite
sufficient that we merely bestow a passing glance on objects,
they must strike deep. If they do not, they had better not have
been seen at all; since the habit of 'seeing not,' while we appear
to 'see,' has been all the while strengthening.
It cannot be denied that a person who shall take the advice I
have given, may, with a portion of his fellow men, gain less credit
that if he adopted a different course. There is a certain surgeon,
in on of the New England States, who has acquired much popularity
by reading as he travels along. Seldom or never, say his admirers,
is he seen in his carriage without a book in his hand, or at his
side. But such popularity is usually of a mushroom character.
There may be pressing occasions which render it the duty of a
surgeon to consult his books, while in his carriage; but these
occasions can never be of frequent occurrence. It is far better
that he should be reading lessons from the great and open volume
of nature.
Nor does it add, in any degree, to the just respect due to the
wisdome of either of the Plinys, that the elder 'never travelled
without a book and a portable writing desk by his side,' and that
the younger read upon all occasions, whether riding, walking,
or sitting. ' I cannot doubt that, wise as they were in books
and philosophy, they would have secured a greater fund of practical
wisdom, had they left their books and writing desks at home, and
'kept their eyes open' to surrounding objects.
There is another thing mentioned of Pliny the elder, which is
equally objectionable. It is said that a person read to him during
his meals. I have given my views on this point in Chapter I.
SECTION II. Rules for Conversation .
The bee has the art of extracting honey from every flower which
contains it, even from some which are not a little nauseous or
poisonous. It has also been said that the conversation of every
individual, whatever may be the condition of his mind or circumstances,
may be made a means of improvement. How happy would it be, then,
if man possessed the skill of the bee, and knew how to extract
the good, and reject the bad or useless!
Something on this subject is, indeed, known. There are rules,
by the observance of which we may derive much valuable information
from the conversation of those among whom we live, even though
it should relate to the most ordinary subjects and concerns. And
not only so, we may often devise means to change the conversation,
either directly, or indirectly, by patient attempts to enlarge
and improve and elevate the minds of our associates.
Every individual has excellences; and almost every person, however
ignorant, has thought upon some one subject more than many, --
perhaps most -- others. Some excel in the knowledge of husbandry,
some in gardening, some in mechanics, or manufactures, some in
mathematics, and so on. In all your conversation, then, it will
be well to ascertain as nearly as you can wherein the skill and
excellence of an individual lies, and put him upon his favorite
subject. Nor is this difficult. Everyone will, of his own accord,
fall to talking on his favorite topic, if you will follow, and
not attempt to lead him.
Except in a few rare cases, every one wishes to be the hero of
the circle where he is conversing. If, therefore, you seek to
improve in the greatest possible degree, from the conversation
of those among you whom you may be thrown, you will suffer a companion
to take his own course, and 'out of the abundance of his heart,'
let his 'mouth speak.' By this means you may easily collect the
worth and excellence of every one you meet with; and be able to
put it together for your own use upon future occasions.
The common objections to the views here presented, are, that they
encourage dissimulation. But this does not appear to me to be
the fact. In suffering a person, for the space of a single conversation,
to be the hero of the circle, we do not of necessity concede his
superiority generally; we only help him to be useful to the company.
It often happens that you are thrown among persons whom you cannot
benefit by becoming the hero of the circle yourself, for they
will not listen to you; and perhaps will not understand your terms,
if they do. If, however, there appear to be others in the company
whose object, like your own, is improvement, you might expose
yourself to the just charge of being selfish, should you refuse
to converse upon your own favorite topics in your turn; and thus
to let the good deed go the round.
Never interrupot another, but hear him out. You will understand
him the better for it, and be able to give him the better answer.
If you only give him an opportunity, he may say something which
you have not yet heard, or explain what you did not fully understand,
or even mention something which you did not expect.
There are thouse individuals with whom you may occasionally come
in contact, from whose conversation you will hardly derive much
benefit at all. Such are thse who use wanton, or obscene, or profane
language. For, besides the almost utter hopelessness of deriving
any benefit from such persons, and the pain you must inevitably
suffer in hearing them, you put your own reputation at hazard.
'A man is known by the company he keeps;' take care therefore
how you frequent the company of the swearer and the sensualist.
Avoid, too, the known liar, for similar reasons.
If you speak in company, it is not only modest but wise to speak
late; for by this means, you will be able to render your conversation
more acceptable, and to weigh before hand the importance of what
you utter; and you will be less likely to violate the good old
rule, 'think twice before you speak once.' Let your words be as
few as will express the sense which you wish to convey, especially
when strangers or men of much greater experience than yourself
are present; and above all, be careful that what you say be strictly
true.
Do not suffer your feelings to betray you into too great earnestness,
or vehemence; and never be overbearing. Avoid triumphing over
an antagonist, even though you might reasonably do so. You gain
nothing. On the contrary, you often confirm him in his erroneous
opinions. At least, you prejudice him against yourself. Zimmerman
insists that we should suffer an antagonist to get the vicotry
over us occasionally, in order to raise his respect for himself.
All finesse of this kind, however, as Christians, I think it better
to avoid.
SECTION III. On Books, and Study .
It may excite some surprise that books, and study, do not occupy
a more conspicuous place in this work. There are several reasons
for this circumstance. This first is, a wish to counteract the
prevailing tendancy to make too much of books as a means of forming
character. The second is, because the choice of these depends
more upon parents and teachers than upon the individual himself;
and if they have neglected to lay the foundation of a desire for
mental improvement, there is less probability that any advice
I may give on this subject will be serviceable, than on most others.
And yet, no young man, at any age, ought to despair of establishing
such habits of body and mind as he believes would contribute to
his usefulness. He hates the sight of a book, perhaps; but what
then? This prejudice may, in a measure, be removed. Not at once,
it is true, but gradually. Not by compelling himself to read or
study against his inclination; for little will be accomplished
when it goes 'against the grain.' But there are means better and
more effective than these; some of which I will now proceed to
point out.
Let him attach himself to some respectable lyceum or debating
society. Most young men are willing to attend a lyceum, occasionally;
and thanks to the spirit of the times and those who have zealously
labored to produce the present state of things, these institutions
every where abound. Let him now and then take part in a discussion,
if it be, at first, only to say a few words. The moment he can
awaken an interest in almost any subject whatever, that moment
he will, of necessity, seek for information in regard to it. He
will seek it, not only in conversation, but in newspapers. These,
if well selected, will in their turn refer him to books of travels.
Gradually he will find histories, if not written in too dry a
manner, sources of delight. Thus he will proceed, step by step,
till he finds hiself quite attached to reading of various descriptions.
There is one caution to be observed here, which is, not to read
too long or too much at once. When ever 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 reasonable 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 imporession 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 thiry-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 immdeiate 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
was 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 and 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. (sic)
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 situationed
than any other. But it is also true tha 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, it 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
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 everything.
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 mantion 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 a 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 anture of the case will admit, it ought
to be required of lecturers and disputants, to explain everything
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 taht
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 a Yorktown, in Virginia, during
the whole seige, in the American revolution. I am supposing here
that you have already learned where Yorktown is; for geography,
to some extent at least, whould precede history; but if not, I
would let it pass for the moment, since we cannot do everything
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 until you have attained a measure of
success. Find out, when the seige is question happened, by whom,
and by how many thousand troops it was carried on; and who and
how many the beseiged 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 seige?
-- 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 the the French troops and the
good La Fayette? This would lead to the study of French history
for the last forty years. On the other hand, Where has Washington
and La Fayette and Cornwallis been employed, previous to the seige
at 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 seige 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 occurance.
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 o 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
were lost? Yet nine readers out of 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 expectit,
a young man would be required to stop and make the compututation;
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 not aritmetician 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 witnesses
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 mcuh and often, and in such manner
as to be clearly understood. Perhaps the misinterpretation of
a single doubtful word or sentence migh 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 peddlars 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 criticize 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 indispensible; 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 priminent place than
is usually assigned it; and the study of books on Grammar and
Composition one much less prominent.
7. VOYAGE, 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 of these species of writing
the aid of an intelligent, experienced and judicious friend would
be of 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
to 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 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,
ficition, 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 more of a 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 Watt'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.
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 capactiy, it would be disgraceful
not to study the history and constitution of our country, and
closely 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 everyday 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 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 concenr 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 agriculturalist
kept a journal for many years, of which the following is a specimen.
1813.
July 2. Began our haying. Mowed in the fore-
noon, 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 and article hay is, too, especially
in this climate, during our long and
cold winters! We have fine weather
to begin with, and hope it will con-
tinue.
I think a very great improvement
might be made in our rakes. Why
need they be so heavy for light rak-
ing? 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 cannon fired, and a
spouting oration delivered, and seen a
few toasts drank; and what does it all
amount to? Is this a way of keeping the
day of independence really useful? I
doubt it. Who knows but the value of
the wine which has been drank, ex-
pended 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 (sic) 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 occurances, 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,
promply and perseveringly followed. Quotations from books or papers
might also be preserved in the same manner. *
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 thought
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 pages in succession.
I have known a gentleman -- quite a literary man, too -- who,
having been carefull 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)
* Some persons always read with a pen or pencil in hand, and when
a though occurs, note it in a little books, kept for the purpose.
settled on his hand, 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 uselss. The same remarks might be
applied to the habit of suffering the corners of the leaves to
turn up, in 'dogs 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 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, it 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 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.
CHAPTER 1.
Social and Moral Improvement.
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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 principle 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 femail 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 mcuh practical Mohammedanism and Paganism in our manner in
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 influence 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 distain; 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
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 increaseing 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 tendancy 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 not 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 atten-
tion 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 mothers' 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
the 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 excercised 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 others' 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 respectibility 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 respectable.
SECTION IV. General Remarks and Advice .
Never seek, then, to avoid respectable female society. Total privation
has its danger, 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 danger 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 place 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 con- duct toward others
-- which Divine Goodness has given, as the grand text to the book
of human duty.
The general idea presented in the foregoing section, 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 is 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 manoeuvering, 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 ever be cast where you can enjoy the society of
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 it,
'Beware of idolatry.' Keep yourself clear from fascination, and
call in the aid of your severest judgment to keep your ind 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 principle
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 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 dependancies!
Lyceums, when they shall have obtained a firmer footing amng 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 it relation to surrounding objects; of discussing the philosophy
of dress, and its different materials for different seasons; of
food, and drink, and sleep and excercise; 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
in 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 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 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 complet 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 mcuh the fashion among young
men at the present day to make up their minds to dispense with
marriage; -- an unnatural, and therefore 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 wtih 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 the very early
life this man formed a strong attachment to a lady, under the
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 matrimoney, 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
elicity 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 conclusion, 'What would she think
were she now to see me?' called up by the obtrusion of a favority
image, -- how often 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 the 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 won 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 coursest 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
different subjects. They readily see through all of 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
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 character 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 acquiantance,
an excellent opportunity will be afforded for putting this rule
into practice.
CHAPTER VI.
Marriage.
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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 go even 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.
This institution is particularly interesting from the fact that
it involves so many items of human happiness. We often speak of
the value of friendship. What friendship like what 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? Parent, -- 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 comtemplating the married state as a
school; not merely for a short tem, 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 imroved.
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 for 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 probably
would be greatly aiding the cause of humanity if extnsive 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.
*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, 'On 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, to 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 only an object before them, accomplished something.
And if you could induced 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, 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.
the results of their labors might be a partial compensation to
society for the evil tendancy of their example. For marriage cannot
be denied to be an institution of God, and indespensable to the
existance of society. And who can say that he has purchase an
indulgence to disobey a law which is in some respects paramount
to every other, however greate 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 to
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 to 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.
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 smae 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 indispensible? I am not advocating the practise 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.
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 our the proper course for you to
pursue in reference to yourself, your own improvement, and consequent
usefulness. In the remarks of the preceeding 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, considereed as physical, mental, and moral beings,
will be mutually improved or injured through life. You will be
placed, as i have already mentioned, at a school of mutual instruction,
which is to continue without vaction or change of monitors, --
perhaps half a century; -- during every one of the earliest years
of which, your charcter 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 prepara- tion for a
school like this. There is not 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
fo 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, not 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 weath, 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 feelngs 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 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 woen 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 Chrisitianity,' 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 principled 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
matrimoniallife, 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, whereever
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, everything 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 satsified 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 it 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 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 gazetter 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, 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 the 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 not good opinion of the man who
expects his wife to yield her opinion to his, on every occasion,
unless she is convicted. I say on every occasion; for that she
sometimes ought to do so, seems to be both scriptural and rational.
I 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 of 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 not
necessity of forming an immediate opinion, or decision, execept
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. I seems to me a sort of treason
agains the God who gave her a mind of her own, with an intention
that she should use it. But it would be a 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 comtemplating 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 things 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 anywhere in the wide world, they are these*.
The more I reflect on the four last mentioned traits of female
character, the more they reise 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,
* It is worthy of remark, as a well established fact, that the
Chinese have an Isan-mon or mother, to their silk-worms! Her duty
is, not to attend to the eggs and the hatching, for nature has
made provision for that; but to take possession of the chamber
where the young are deposited; to see that it be free from 'noisome
smells, and all noises;' to attend to its temperature, and to
'avoid making a smoke, or raising a dust.' She must not enter
the room till she is perfectly clean in person and dress, and
must be clothed in a very plain habit; and in order to be more
sensible to the temperature of the place, her dress must contain
no lining.
Now although every mother of children does not have the care of
silkworms, yet she has the care of beings who are in some respects
equally susceptible. And I trust no person who knows the importance
of temperature, ventilation, &c. especially to the tender infant,
will be ashamed to derive an important lesson from the foregoing.
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 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' aquaintance,
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 desirour
of improvement, or with one who, living only for pleasure, is
'dead while she liveth.'
You will say it is difficult to ascertain whether she is fond
of children or not. But I doubt it. Has she then no young brothers,
or sisters, or cousins? Are there no children in the neighborhood?
For if there are, -- if there is but one, and she sees that individual
but once a week, -- the fact may easily be ascertained. If she
loves that child, the child will love her; and its eye will brighten
when it sees her; or hears her name mentioned. Children seldom
fail to keep debt and credit in these matters, and they know how
to balance the account, with great ingenuity.
These remarks are made, not in the belief that they will benefit
those who are already blinded by fancy or passion, but with the
hope that some more fortunate reader may reflect on the probable
chances of happiness or misery, and pause before he leaps into
the vortex of matrimonial discord. No home can ever be a happy
one to any of its inmates, where there is no maternal love, nor
any desire for mental or moral improvement. But where these exist,
in any considerable degree, and the original attachment was founded
on correct principles, there is always hope of brighter days,
even though clouds at present obscure the horizon. No woman who
loves her husband, and desires to make continual improvement,
will long consent to render those around her unhappy.
5. LOVE OF DOMESTIC CONCERNS.
Without the knowledge and the love of domestic concerns, even
the wife of a peer, is but a poor affair. It was the fashion,
in former times, for ladies to understand a great deal about these
things. and it would be very hard to make me believe that it did
not tend to promote the interests and honor of their husbands.
The concerns of a great family never can be well managed, if left
wholly to hirelings; and there are many parts of these affairs
in which it would be unseemly for husbands to meddle. Surely,
no lady can be to high in rand to make it proper for her to be
well acquainted with the character and general demeanor of all
the female servants. To receive and give character is too much
to be left to a servant, however good, whose service has been
ever so long, or acceptable.
Much of the ease and happiness of the great and rich must depend
on the character of those by whom they are assisted. They live
under the same roof with them; they are frequently the children
of their tenants, or poorer neighbors; the conduct of their whole
lives must be influenced by the examples and precepts which they
here imbibe; and when ladies consider how much more weight there
must be in one word from them, than in ten thousand words from
a person who, call her what you like, is still a fellow servant,
it does appear strange that they should forego the performance
of this at once important and pleasing part of their duty.
I am, however, addressing myself, in this work, to persons in
the middle rank of life; and here a knowledge of domestic affairs
is so necessary in every wife, that the lover ought to have it
continually in his eye. Not only a knowledge of these affairs
-- not only to know how things ought to be done, but how to do
them; not only to know what ingredients ought to be put into a
pie or a pudding, but to be able to make the pie or the pudding.
Young people, when they come together, ought not, unless they
have fortunes, or are to do unusual business, to think about servants!
Servants for what! To help them eat, and drink, and sleep? When
they have children, there must be some help in a farmer's or tradesmans'
house, but until then, what call is there for a servant in a house,
the master of hwich has to earn every mouthful that is consumed?
Eating and drinking came three times every day; they must come;
and, however little we may, in the days of our health and vigor,
care about choice food and about cookery, we very soon get tired
of heavy or burnt bread, and of spoiled joints of meat. We bear
them for once or twice perhaps; but about the third time, we begin
to lament; about the fifth time, it must be an extraordinary affair
that will keep us from complaining; if the like continue for a
month or two, we begin to repent; and then adieu to all our anticipated
delights. We discover, when it is too late, that we have not got
a helpmate, but a burden; and the fire of love being damped, the
unfortunately educated creature, whose parents are more to blame
than she is, unless she resolve to learn her duty, is doomed to
lead a life very nearly approaching to that of misery; for, however
considerate the husband, he never can esteem her as he would have
done, had she been skilled in domestic affairs.
The mere manual performance of domestic labors is not, indeed,
absolutely necessary in the female head of the family of the professional
men; but, even here, and also in the case of the great merchants
and of gentlemen living on their fortunes, surely the head of
the household ought to be able to give directions as to the purchasing
of meal, salting meat, making bread, making preserves of all sorts;
and ought to see the things done.
The lady ought to take care that food be well cooked; that there
be always a sufficient supply; that there be good living without
waste; and that in her department, nothing shall be seen inconsistent
with the rank, station, and character of her husband. If he have
a skilful and industrious wife, he will, unless he be of a singularly
foolish turn, gladly leave all these things to her absolute dominion,
controlled only by the extent of the whole expenditure, of which
he must be the best judge.
But, in a farmer's or a tradesman's family, the manual performance
is absolutely necessary, whether there be domestics or not. No
one knows how to teach another so well as one who has done, and
can do, the thing himself. It was said of a famous French commander,
that in attacking an enemy, he did not say to his men 'go on,'
but 'come on;' and, whoever has well observed the movements of
domestics, must know what a prodigious difference there is in
the effect of the words, go and come.
A very good rule would be, to have nothing to eat, in a farmer's
or mechanic's house, that the mistress did not know how to prepare
and to cook; no pudding, tart, pie, or cake, that she did not
know how to make. Never fear the toil to her: exercise is good
for health, and without health there is no beauty. Besides, what
is the labor is such a case? and how many thousands of ladies,
who idle away the day, would give half their fortunes for what
sound sleep which the stirring housewife seldom fails to enjoy.
Yet, if a young farmer or mechanic marry a girl, who has been
brought up only to 'play music;' to draw, to sing, to waste paper,
pen and ink in writing long and half romantic letters, and to
see shows, and plays, and read novels; -- if a young man do marry
such an unfortunate young creature, let him bear the consequences
with temper. Let him be just. Justice will teach him to treat
her with great indulgence; to endeavor to persuade her to learn
her business as a wife; to be patient with her; to reflect that
he has taken her, being apprized of her inability; to bear in
mind, that he was, or seemed to be, pleased with her showy and
useless acquirements; and that, when the gratification of his
passion has been accomplished, he is unjust, and cruel, and unmanly,
if he turn round upon her, and accuse her of a want of that knowledge,
which he well knew, before hand, she did not possess.
For my part, I do not know, nor can I form an idea of, a more
unfortunate being than a girl with a mere boarding school education,
and without a fortune to enable her to keep domestics, when married.
Of what use are her accomplishments? Of what her music, her drawing,
and her romantic epistles? If she should chance to possess a sweet
disposition, and good nature, the first faint cry of her first
babe drives all the tunes and all the landscapes, and all the
imaginary beings out of her head for ever.
The farmer of the tradesman's wife has to help earn a provision
for her children; or, at the least, to help to earn a store for
sickness or old age. She ought, therefore, to be qualified to
begin, at once, to assist her husband in his earnings. The way
in which she can most efficiently assist, is by taking care of
his property; by expending his money to the greatest advantage;
by wasting nothing, but by making the table sufficiently abundant
with the least expense.
But how is she to do these things, unless she has been brought
up to understand domestic affairs? How is she to do these things,
if she has been taught to think these matters beneath her study?
How is the man to expect her to do these things, if she has been
so bred, as to make her habitually look upon them as worthy the
attention of none but low and ignorant women?
Ignorant, indeed! Ignorance consists in a want of knowledge of
those things which your calling or state of life naturally supposes
you to understand. A ploughman is not an ignorant man because
he does not know how to read. If he knows how to plough, he is
not to be called an ignorant man; but a wife may justly be called
an ignorant woman, if she does not know how to provide a dinner
for her husband. It is cold comfort for a hungry man, to tell
him how delightfully his wife plays and sings. Lovers may live
on a very aerial diet, but husbands stand in need of something
more solid; and young women may take my word for it, that a constantly
clean table, well cooked victuals, a house in order, and a cheerful
fire, will do more towards preserving a husband's heart, than
all the 'accomplishments' taught in all the 'establishments' in
the world without them.
6. SOBRIETY.
Surely no reasonable young man will expect sobriety in a companion,
when he does not possess this qualification himself. But by sobriety,
I do not mean a habit which is opposed to intoxication, for if
that be hateful in a man, what must it be in a woman? Besides,
it does seem to me that no young man, with his eyes open, and
his other senses perfect, needs any caution on that point. Drunkenness,
downright drunkenness, is usually as incompaticble with purity,
as it is with decency.
Much is sometimes said in favor of a little wine or other fermented
liquors, especially at dinner. No young lady, in health, needs
any of these stimulants. Wine, or ale, or cider, at dinner! I
would as soon take a companion from the streets, as one who must
habitually have her glass or two of wine at dinner. And this is
not a opinion formed prematurely or hastily.
But by the word SOBRIETY in a young woman, I mean a great deal
more than even a rigid abstinence from a love of drink, which
I do not believe to exist to any considerable degree, in this
country, even in the least refined parts of it. I mean a great
deal more than this; I mean sobriety of conduct. The word sober
and its derivatives mean steadiness, seriousness, carefulness,
scrupulous propriety of conduct.
Now this kind of sobriety is of great importance in the person
with whom we are to live constantly. Skipping, romping, rattling
girls are very amusing where all consequences are out of the question,
and they may, perhaps, ultimately become sober. But while you
have no certainty of this, there is a presumptive argument on
the other side. To be sure, when girls are mere children, they
are expected to play and romp like children. But when they are
arrived at an age which turns their thoughts towards a situation
for life; when they begin to think of having the command of a
house, however small or poor, it is time for them to cast away,
not the cheerfulness or the simplicity, but the levity of the
child.
'If I could not have found a young woman,' says a certain writer,
'who I was not sure possess all the qualities expressed by that
word sobriety, I should have remained a bachelor to the end of
life. Scores of gentlemen have, at different times, expressed
to me their surprise that I was "always in spirits; that nothing
pulled me down;" and the truth is, that throughout nearly forty
years of troubles, losses, and crosses, assailed all the while
by numerous and powerful enemies, and performing, at the same
time, greater mental labors than man ever before performed; all
those labors requiring mental exertion, and some of them mental
exertion of the highest order, I have never known a single hour
of real anxiety; the troubles have been no troubles to me; I have
not known what lowness of spirits meant; and have been more gay,
and felt less care than any bachelor that ever lived. "You are
always in spirits!" To be sure, for why should I not be so? Poverty,
I have always set at defiance, and I could, therefore, defy the
temptation to riches; and as to home and children, I had taken
care of myself with an inexhaustible store of that "sobriety"
which I so strongly recommend to others.
'This sobriety is a title to trustworthiness; and this, young
man, is the treasure that you ought to prize above all others.
Miserable is the husband who, when he crosses the threshold of
his house, carries with him doubts, and fears, and suspicions.
I do not mean suspicions of the fidelity of his wife; but of her
care, frugality, attention to his interests, and to the health
and morals of his children. Miserable is the man who cannot leave
all unlocked; and who is not sure, quite certain, that all is
as safe as if grasped in his own hand.
'He is the happy husband who can go away at a moment's warning,
leaving his house and family with as little anxiety as he quits
an inn, no more fearing to find, on his return, any thing wrong,
than he would fear a discontinuance of the rising and setting
of the sun; and if, as in my case, leaving books and papers all
lying about at sixes and sevens, finding them arranged in proper
order, and the room, during the lucky interval, freed from the
effects of his and his ploughman's or gardener's dirty shoes.
Such a man has no real cares -- no troubles; and this is the sort
fo life I have led. I have had all the numerous and indescribable
delights of home and children, and at the same time, al the bachelor's
freedom from domestic cares.
'But in order to possess this precious trustworthi-ness, you must,
if you can, exercise your reason in the choice of your partner.
If she be vain of her person, very fond of dress, fond of flattery
at all, given to gadding about, fond of what are called parties
of pleasure, or coquetish, though in the least degree, -- she
will never be trustworthy; she cannot change her nature; and if
you marry her, you will be unjust, if you expect trustworthiness
at her hands. But on the other hand, if you find in her that innate
sobriety of which I have been speaking, there is required on your
part, and that at once, too, confidence and trust without any
limit. Confidence in this case is nothing, unless it be reciprocal.
To have a trustworthy wife, you must begin by showing her, even
before marriage, that you have no suspicions, fears, or doubts
in regard to her. Many a man has been discarded by a virtuous
girl, merely on account of his querulous conduct. All women despise
jealous men, and if they marry them, their motive is other than
that of affection.'
There is a tendancy, in our very natures, to become what we are
taken to be. Beware then of suspicion or jealously, lest you produce
the very thing which you most dread. The evil results of suspicions
and jealousy whether in single or married, public or private life,
may be seen by the following fact.
A certain professional gentleman had the misfortune to possess
a suspicious temper. He had not a better friend on the earth than
Mr. C., yet by some unaccountable whim or other, he began of a
sudden to suspect he was his enemy; -- and what was at first at
the farthest remove from the truth, ultimately grew to be a reality.
Had it not been to this hour one of the doctor's warmest and most
confidential friends, instead of being removed -- in in a great
measure through his influence -- from a useful field of labor.
'Let any man observe as I frequently have,' says the writer last
quoted, 'with delight, the excessive fondness of the laboring
people for their children. Let him observe with what care they
dress them out on Sundays with means deducted from their own scanty
meals. Let him observe the husband, who has toiled like his horse,
all the week, nursing the babe, while the wife is preparing dinner.
Let him observe them both abstaining from a sufficiency, lest
the children should fell the pinchings of hunger. Let him observe,
in short, the whole of their demeanor, the real mutual affection
evinced, not in words, but in unequivocla deeds.
'Let him observe these things, and having then cast a look at
the lives of the great and wealthy, he will say, with me, that
when a man is choosing his partnes for life, the dread of poverty
ought to be cast to the winds. A laborer's cottage in a cleanly
condition; the husband or wife having a babe in arms, looking
at two or three older ones, playing between the flower borders,
going from the wicket to the door, is, according to my taste,
the most interesting object that eyes could ever behold; and it
is an object to be seen in no country on earth but England.'
It happens, however, that the writer had not seen all the countries
upon earth, nor even all in the interior of United America. There
are as moving instances of native simplicity and substantial happiness
here as in any other country; and occasionally in even higher
classes. The wife of a distinguished lawyer and senator in Congress,
never left the society of her own children, to go for once to
see her friends abroad, in eleven years! I am not defending the
conduct of the husband who would doom his wife to imprisonment
in his own house, even amid a happy group of children, for eleven
years; but the example shows, at least that there are women fitted
for domestic life in other countries besides England.
Ardent young men may fear that great sobriety in a young woman
argues for want of that warmth which they naturally so much desire
and approve. But observation and experience attest to the contrary.
They tell us that levity is ninety-nine times out of a hundred,
the companion of want of ardent feeling. But the licentious never
love. Their passion is chiefly animal. Even better women, if they
possess light and frivolous minds, have seldom any ardent passion.
I would not, however, recommend that you should be too severe
in judging, when the conduct does not go beyond mere levity, and
is not bordering on loose conduct; for something certainly depends
here on constitution and animal spirits, and something on the
manners of the country.
If any person imagine that the sobriety I have been recommending
would render young women moping or gloomy, he is much mistaken,
for the contrary is the fact. I have uniformly found -- and I
began to observe it in my very childhood -- that your jovial souls,
men or women, except when over the bottle, are of al human beings
the most dull and insipid. They can no more exist -- they may
vegetate -- but they can no more live without some excitement,
than a fish could live on the top of the Alleghany. If it be not
the excitement of the bottle, it must be that of the tea or the
coffee cup, or food converted into some unwholesome form or other
by condiments; or it it be none of these, they must have some
excitement of the intellect, for intemperance is not confined
to the use of condiments and poisons to mind and heart. In fact,
they usually accompany one another.
Show me a person who cannot live on plain and simple food and
the only drink the Creator ever made, and as a general rule you
will show me a person to whom the plain and the solid and the
useful in domestic, social, intellectual, and moral life are insipid
of not disgusting. 'They are welcome to all that sort of labor,'
said one of these creatures -- not rationals -- this very day,
to me, in relation to plain domestic employments. -- Show me a
female, as many, alas! very many in fashionable life are now trained,
and you show me a person who has none of the qualities that fit
her to be a help meet for a man in a life of simplicity. She could
recite well at the high school, no doubt; but the moment she leaves
school, she has nothing to do, and is taught to do nothing. I
have seen girls, of this description, and they may be seen by
others.
But what is such a female -- one who can hardly help herself --
good for, at home or abroad; married, or single? The moment she
has not some feast, or party, or play, or novel, or -- I know
not what -- something to keep up a fever, the moment I say that
she has not something of this sort to anticipate or enjoy, that
moment she is miserable. Wo to the young man who becomes wedded
for life to a creature of this description. She may stay at home,
for want of a better place, and she may add one to the national
census every ten years, but a companion, or a mother, she cannot
be.
I should dislike a moping melancholy creature as much as any man,
though were I tied to such a thing, I could live with her; but
I never could enjoy her society, not but half my own. He is but
half a man who is thus wedded, and will exclaim, in a literal
sense, 'When shall I be delivered from the body of this death?'
One hour, an animal of this sort is moping, especially if nobody
but her husband is present; the next hour, if others happen to
be present, she has plenty of smiles; the next she is giggling
or capering about; and teh next singing to the motion of a lazy
needle, or perhaps weeping over a novel. And this is called sentiment!
She is a woman of feeling and good taste!
7. INDUSTRY.
Let not the individual whose eye catches the word industry, at
the beginning of this division of my subject, condemn me as degrading
females to the condition of mere wheels in a machine for money-making;
for I mean no such thing. There is nothing more abhorrent to the
soul of a sensible man than female avarice. The 'spirit of a man'
may sustain him, while he sees avaricious and miserly individuals
among his own sex, though the sight is painful enough, even here;
but a female miser, 'who can bear?'
Still if woman is intended to be a 'help meet,' for the other
sex, I know of no reason why she should not be so in physical
concerns, as well as mental and moral. I know not by what rule
it is that many resolve to remain for ever in celibacy, unless
they believe their companions can 'support' them, without labor.
I have sometimes even doubted whether any person who makes these
declarations can be sincere. Yet when I hear people, of both sexes,
speak of poverty as a greater calamity than death, I am led to
think that this dread of poverty does really exist among both
sexes. And there are reasons for believing that some females,
bred in fashionable life, look forward to matrimony as a state,
of such entire exemption from care and labor, and of such uninterrupted
ease, that they would prefer celibacy and even death to those
duties which scripture, and reason, and common sense, appear to
me to enjoin.
Such persons, whatever may be their other qualitifications, I
call upon every young man to avoid, as he would a pestilaence.
If they are really determined to live and act as mere drones in
society, let them live alone. Do not give them an opportunity
to spread the infection of so wretched a disease, if you can honesty
help it.
The woman who does not actually prefer action to inaction -- industry
to idlenesss -- labor to ease -- and who does not steadfastly
resolve to labor moderately as long as she lives, whatever may
be her circumstances is unfit for life, social or domestic. It
is not for me to say, in what form her labor shall be applied,
except in rearing the young. But labor she ought -- all she is
able -- while life and health lasts, at something or other; or
she ought not to complain if she suffers the natural penalty;
and she ought to do it with cheerfulness.
I like much the quaint remark of a good old lady of ninety. She
was bred to labor, had labored through the whole of her long and
eventful life, and was still at her 'wheel.' 'Why,' said she,
'people ought to strain every nerve to get property, and a matter
of Christian duty.'
I should choose to modify this old lady's remark, and say that,
people ought to do all they can without straining their muscles
or nerves; not to get property, but because it is at once, their
duty and their happiness.
The great object of life is to do good. The great object of society
is to increase the power to do good. Both sexes should aim, in
matrimony, at a more extended sphere of usefulness. To increase
an estate, merely, is a low and unworthy aim, from which may God
preserve the rising generation. Still I must say, that I greatly
prefer the avaricious being -- a monster though she might be --
to the stupid soul who would not life a finger if she could help
it, and who determines to fold her arms whenever she has a convenient
opportunity.
If a female be lazy, there will be lazy domestics, and what is
a great deal worse, children will acquire this habit. Every thing,
however necessary to be done, will be put off to the last moment,
and then it will be done badly, and, in many cases, not at all.
The dinner will be late; the journey or the visit will be tardy;
inconveniences of all sorts will be constantly arising. There
will always be a heavy arrear of things unperformed; and this,
even among the most wealthy, is a great evil; for if they have
no business imposed upon them by necessity, they make business
for themselves. Life would be intolerable without it; and therefore
an indolent woman must always be an evil, be her rank or station
what it may.
But, who is to tell whether an girl will make an industrious woman?
How is the pur-blind lover especially, to be able to ascertain
whether she, whose smiles and dimples and bewitching lips have
half bereft him of his senses; how is he to be able to judge,
from any thing he can see, whether the beloved object will be
industrious or lazy? Why, it is very difficult; it is a matter
that reason has very little to do with. Still there are indications
with enable a man, not wholly deprived of the use of his reason,
to form a pretty accurate judgment in this matter.
It was a famous story some years ago, that a young man, who was
courting one of three sisters, happened to be on a visit to her,
when all the three were present, and when one said to the others,
'I wonder where our needle is.' Upon which he withdrew, as soon
as was consistent with the rules of politeness, resolving to think
no more of a girl who possessed a needle only in partnership,
and who, it appeared, was not to well informed as to the place
where even that share was deposited.
This was, to be sure, a very flagrant instance of a want of industry;
for, if the third part of the use of the needle satisfied her,
when single, it was reasonable to anticipate that marriage would
banish that useful implement altogether. But such instances are
seldom suffered to come in contact with the eyes and ears of the
lover. There are, however, as I have already said, certain rules,
which, if attended to with care, will serve as pretty sure guides.
And, first, if you find the tongue lazy, you may be nearly certain
that the hands and feet are not very industrious. By laziness
of the tongue I do not mean silence; but, I mean, a slow and soft
utterance; a sort of sighing out of the words, instead of speaking
them; a sort of letting the sounds fall out, as if the party were
sick at stomach. The pronunciation of an industrious person is
generally quick, and distinct; the voice, if not strong, firm
at the least. Not masculine, but as feminine as possible; not
a croak or a bawl, but a quick, distinct, and sound voice.
One writer insists that the motion of those little members of
the body, the teeth, are very much in harmony with the operations
of the mind; and a very observing gentleman assures me that he
can judge pretty accurately the general character of a child,
by his manner of eating. Nothing is more obvious than that the
temper of the child who is so greedy as to swallow down his food
habitually, without masticating it, must be very different from
that of him who habitually eats slowly. Hunger, I know, will quicken
the jaws in either case, but I am supposing them on an equal footing
in this respect.
Another mark of industry is, a quick step, and a somewhat heavy
tread, showing that the foot comes down with a hearty good will.
If the body lean a little forward, and the eyes keep steadily
in the same direction, while the feet are going, so much the better,
for these discover earnestness to arrive at the intended point.
I do not like, and I never like, your sauntering, soft-stepping
girls, who move as if they were perfectly indifferent as to the
result. And, as the the love part of the story, who ever expects
ardent and lasting affection from one of these sauntering girls,
will, when too late, find his mistake. The character is much the
same throughout; and probably no man ever yet saw a sauntering
girl, who did not, when married, make an indifferent wife, and
a cold-hearted mother; cared very little for, either by husband
or children; and, of course, having no store of those blessings
which are the natural resources to apply to in sickness and in
old age.
8. EARLY RISING.
Early rising is another mark of industry; and though, in the higher
stations of life, it may be of no importance in a mere pecuniary
point of view, it is, even there, of importance in other respects;
for it is rather difficult to keep love alive towards a woman
who never sees the dew, never beholds the rising sun, and who
constantly comes directly from a reeking bed to the breakfast
table, and there chews, without appetite, the choicest morsels
of human food. A man might, perhaps, endure this for a month or
two, without being disgusted; but not much longer.
As to people in the middle rank of life, where a living and a
provision for the children is to be saught by labor of some sort
or other, late rising in the wife is certain ruin; and rarely
will you find an early-rising wife, who had been a late-rising
girl. If brought up to late rising, she will like it; it will
be her habit; whe will, when married, never want excuses for indulging
in the habit. At first she will be indulged without bounds; and
to make a change afterwards will be difficult, for it will be
deemed a wrong done to her; she will ascribe it to diminished
affection. A quarrel must ensue, or, the husband must submit to
be ruined, or, at the very least, to see half the fruit of his
labor snored and lounged away.
And, is this being unreasonably harsh or severe upon women? By
no means. It arises from an ardent desire to promote the happiness,
and to add to the natural, legitimate, and salutary influence
of the female sex. The tendancy of this advice is to promote the
preservation of their health; to prolong the duration of their
beauty; to cause them to be loved to the last day of their lives;
and to give them, during the whole of those lives, that weight
and consequence, and respect, of which laziness would render them
wholly unworthy.
9. FRUGALITY.
This means the contrary of extravagance. it does not mean stinginess;
it does not mean pinching; but it means an abstaining from all
unnecessary expenditure, and all unnecessary use of goods of any
and of every sort. It is a quality of great importance, whether
the rank of life be high of low.
Some people are, indeed, so rich, they have such an over-abundance
of money and goods, that how to get rid of them would, to a spectator,
seem to be their only difficulty. How many individuals of fine
estates, have been ruined and degraded by the extravagance of
their wives! More frequently by their own extravagance, perhaps;
but, in numerous instances, by that of those whose duty it is
to assist in upholding their stations by husbanding their fortunes.
If this be the case amongst the opulent, who have estates to draw
upon, what must be the consequences of a want of frugality in
the middle and lower ranks of life? Here it must be fatal, and
especially among that description of persons whose wives have,
in many cases, the receiving as well as the spending of money.
In such a a case, there wants nothing but extravagance in the
wife to make ruin as inevitable as the arrival of old age.
To obtain security against this is very difficult; yet, if the
lover be not quite blind, he may easily discover a propensity
towards extravagance. The object of his addresses will, nine times
out of ten, never be the manager of a house; but she must have
her dress, and other little matters under her control. If she
be costly in these; if, in these, she step above her rank, or
even to the top of it; if she purchase all she is able to purchase,
and prefer the showy to the useful, the gay and the fragile to
the less sightly and more durable, he may be sure that the disposition
will cling to her through life. If he perceive in her a taste
for costly food, costly furniture, costly amusements: if he find
her want of means; if he find her full of admiration of the trappings
of the rich, and of desire to be able to imitate them, he may
be pretty sure that she will not spare his purse, when once she
gets her hand into it; and, therefore, if he can bid adieu to
her charms, the sooner he does it, the better.
Some of the indications of extravagance in a lady are ear-rings,
broaches, bracelets, buckles, necklaces, diamonds, (real or mock,)
and nearly all the ornaments which women put upon their persons.
These things may be more proper in palaces, or in scenes resembling
palaces; but when they make their appearance amongst people in
the middle rank of life, where, after all, they only serve to
show that poverty in the parties which they wish to disguise;
when the mean, tawdry things make their appearance in this rank
of life, they are the sure indications of a disposition that will
always be straining at what it can never attain.
To marry a girl of this disposition is really self-destruction.
You never can have either property or peace. Earn her a horse
to ride, she will want a gig: earn the gig, she will want a chariot:
get her that, she will long for a coach and four: and from stage
to stage, she will torment you to the end of her or your days;
for, still there will be somebody with a finer equipage that you
can give her; and, as long as this is the case, you will never
have rest. Reason would tell her, that she must stop at some point
short of that; and taht, therefore, all expenses in the rivalship
are so much thrown away. But, reason and broaches and bracelets
seldom go in company. The girl who has not the sense to perceive
that her person is disfigured and not beautified by parcels of
brass and tin, or even gold and silver, as well to regret, if
she dare not oppose the tyranny of absurd fashions, is not entitled
to a full measure of confidence of any individual.
10. PERSONAL NEATNESS.
There never yet was, and there never will be sincere and ardent
love, of long duration, where personal neatness is wholly neglected.
I do not say that there are not those who would live peaceably
and even contentedly in these circumstances. But what I contend
for is this: that there never can exist, for any length of time,
ardent affection, in any man towards a woman who neglects neatness,
either in her person, or in her house affairs.
Men may be careless as to their own persons; they may, from the
nature of their business, or from their want of time to adhere
to neatness in dress, be slovenly in their own dress and habits;
but, they do not relish this in their wives, who must still have
charms; and charms and neglect of the person seldom go together.
I do not, of course, approve of it even in men.
We may, indeed, lay it down as a rule of almost universal application,
that supposing all other things to be equal, he who is most guilty
of personal neglect; will be the most ignorant and the most vicious.
Why there should be, universally, a connection between slovenliness,
ignorance, and vice, is a question I have no room in this work
to discuss.
I am well acquainted with one whole family who neglect their persons
from principle. The gentleman, who is a sort of new light in religious
concerns, will tell you that the true Christian should 'slight
the hovel, as beneath his care.' But there is a want of intelligence,
and even common refinement in the family, that certainly does
not and cannot add much to their own happiness, or recommend religion
-- aside from the fact that it greatly annoys their neighbors.
And though the head of the family observes many external duties
with Jewish strictness, neither he nor any of its members are
apt to bridle their tongues, or remember that on ordinary as well
as special occasions they are bound to 'do all to the glory of
God.' As to the connection of mind with matter -- I mean the dependence
of mind and soul on body, they are wholly ignorant.
It is not dress that the husband wants to be perpetual: it is
not finery; but cleanliness in everything. Women generally dress
enough, especially when they go abroad. This occasional cleanliness
is not the thing that a husband wants: he wants is always; in-doors
as well as out; by night as well as by day; on the floor as well
as on the table; and, however he may complain about the trouble
and the 'expense' of it, he would complain more if it were neglected.
The indications of female neatness are, first, a clean skin. The
hands and face will usually be clean, to be sure, if there be
soap and water within reach; but if on observing other parts of
the head besides the face, you make discoveries indicating a different
character, the sooner you cease your visits the better. I hope,
now, that no young woman who may chance to see this book, will
be offended at this, and think me too severe on her sex. I am
only telling that which all men think; and, it is a decided advantage
to them to be fully informed of our thoughts on the subject. If
any one, who reads this, shall find, upon self- examination, that
she is defective in this respect, let her take the hint, and correct
this defect.
In the dress, you can, amongst rich people, find little whereon
to form a judgment as to cleanliness, because they have not only
the dress prepared for them, but put upon thme into the bargain.
But, in the middle ranks of life, the dress is a good criterion
in two respects: first, as to its color; for if the white be a
sort of yellow, cleanly hands would have been at work to prevent
that. A white-yellow cravat, or shirt, or a man, speaks at once
the character of his wife; and you may be assured, that she will
not take with your dress pains which she has never taken with
her own.
Then, the manner of putting on the dress, is no bad foundation
for judging. If this be careless, and slovenly, if it do not fit
properly, -- no matter for its mean quality; mean as it may be,
it may be neatly and trimly put on -- if it be slovenly put on,
I say, take care of yourself; for, you will soon find to your
cost, that a sloven in one thing, is a sloven in all things. The
plainer people, judge greatly from the state of the covering of
the ankles; and, if that be not clean and tight, they conclude
that the rest is not as it ought to be. Look at the shoes! If
they be trodden on one side, loose on the foot, or run down at
the heel, it is a very bad sign; and as to going slipshod, though
at coming down in the morning, and even before daylight, make
up your mind to a rope, rather than live with a slipshod woman.
How much do women lose by inattention to these matters! Men, in
general, say nothing about it to their wives, but they think about
it; they envy their more lucky neighbors, and in numerous cases,
consequences the most serious arise from this apparently trifling
cause. Beauty is valuable; it is one of the ties, and strong one
too; but it cannot last to old age; whereas the charm of cleanliness
never ends but with life itself. It has been said that the sweetest
flowers, when they really become putrid, are the most offensive.
So the most beautiful woman, if found with an uncleansed skin,
is, in my estimation, the most disagreeable.
11. A GOOD TEMPER.
This is a very difficult thing to ascertain beforehand. Smiles
are cheap; they are easily put on for the occasion; and, besides,
the frowns are, according to the lover's whim, interpreted into
the contrary. By 'good temper,' I do not mean an easy temper,
a serenity which nothing disturbs; for that is a mark of laziness.
Sullenness, if you be not too blind to perceive it, is a temper
to be avoided by all means. A sullen man is bad enough; what,
then, must a sullen woman, and that woman a wife; a constant inmate,
a companion day and night! Only think of the delight of setting
at the same table, and occupying the same chamber, for a week,
without exchanging a word for all the while! Very bad to be scolding
for such a length of time; but this is far better than 'the sulks.'
But if you have your eyes, and look sharp, you will discover symptoms
of this, if it unhappily exist. She will, at some time or other,
show it to towards some one or other of the family; or, perhaps,
towards yourself; and you may be quite sure that, in this respect,
marriage will not mend her. Sullenness arises from capricious
displeasure not founded in reason. The party takes offense unjustifiably;
is unable to frame a complaint, and therefore expresses displeasure
by silence. The remedy for it is to take its full swing; but it
is better not to have the disease in your house; and to be married
to it, is little short of madness.
Querulousness is a great fault. No man, and, especially, no woman,
likes to hear a continual plaintiveness. That she complain, and
roundly complain, of your want of punctuality, of your coolness,
of your neglect, of your liking the company of others: these are
all well, more especially as they are frequently but too just.
But an everlasting complaining, without rhyme or reason, is a
bad sign. It shows want of patience, and, indeed, want of sense.
But the contrary of this, a cold indifference, is still worse.
'When will you come again? You can never find time to come here.
You like any company better than mine.' These, when groundless,
are very teasing, and demonstrate a disposition too full of anxiousness;
but, for a girl who always receives you with the same civil smile,
lets you, at your good pleasure, depart with the same; and who,
when you take her by the hand, holds her cold fingers straight
as sticks, I say, in mercy, preserve me!
Pertinacity is a very bad thing in anybody, and especially in
a young woman; and it is sure to increase in force with the age
of the party. To have the last word, is a poor triumph; but with
some people it is a species of disease of the mind. In a wife
it must be extremely troublesome; and, if you find an ounce of
it in the maid, it will become a pound in the wife. A fierce disputer
is a most disagreeable companion; and where young women thrust
their say into conversations carried on by older persons, give
their opinions in a positive manner, and court a contest of the
tongue, those must be very bold men who will encounter them as
wives.
Still, of all the faults as to temper, your melan- choly ladies
have the worst, unless you have the same mental disease yourself.
Many wives are, at times, misery makers; but these carry it on
as a regular trade. They are always unhappy about something, either
past, present, or to come. Both arms full of children is a pretty
efficient remedy in most cases; but, if these ingredients be wanting,
a little want, a little real trouble, a little genuine affliction,
often will effect a cure.
12. ACCOMPLISHMENTS.
By accomplishments, I mean those things, which are usually comprehended
in what is termed a useful and polite education. Now it is not
unlikely that the fact of my adverstising to this subject so late,
may lead to the opinion that I do not set a proper estimate on
this female qualification.
But it is not so. Probably few set too high an estimate upon it.
Its absolute importance has, I am confident, been seldom overrated.
It is tru I do not like a bookish woman better than a bookish
man; especially a great devourer of that most contemptible species
of books with whose burden the press daily groans: I mean novels.
But mental cultivation, and even what is called polite learning,
along with the foregoing qualifications, are a most valuable acquisition,
and make every female, as well as her associates, doubly happy.
It is only when books, and music, and a taste for the fine arts
are substituted for other and more important things, that they
should be allowed to change love or respect to disgust.
It sometimes happens, I know, that two persons are, in this respect,
pretty equally yoked. But what of that? It only makes each party
twofold more the child of misfortune than before. I have known
a couple of intelligent persons who would sit with their 'feet
in the ashes,' as it were, all day, to read some new and bewitching
book, forgetting every want of the body; perhaps even forgetting
that they had bodies. Were they therefore happy, or likely to
be so?
Drawing, music, embroidery, (and I might mention half a dozen
other things of the same class) where they do not exclude the
more useful and solid matters, may justly be regarded as appropriate
branches of female education; and in some circumstances and conditions
of life, indispensable. Music, -- vocal and instrumental -- and
drawing, to a certain extent, seem to me desirable in all. As
for dancing, I do not feel quite competant to decide. As the world
is, however, I am almost disposed to reject it altogether. At
any rate, if a young lady is accomplished in every other respect,
you need not seriously regret that she has not attended to dancing,
especially as it is conducted in most of our schools.
Criminal Behavior.
IN nineteen cases out of twenty, of illicit conduct, there is
perhaps, no seduction at all; the passion, the absence of virtue,
and the crime, being all mutual. But there are cases of a very
different description. Where a young man goes coolly and deliberately
to work, first to gain and rivet the affections of a young lady,
then to take advantage of those affections to accomplish that
which he knows must be her ruin, and plunge her into misery for
life; -- when a young man does this, I say he must be either a
selfish and unfeeling brute, unworthy of the name of man, or he
must have a heart little inferior, in point of obdurancy, to that
of the murdurer. Let young women, however, be aware; let them
be well aware, that few, indeed, are the cases in which this apology
can possibly avail them. Their character is not solely theirs,
but belongs, in part, to their family and kindred. They may, in
the case contemplated, be objects of compassion with the world;
but what contrition, what repentance, what remorse, what that
even the tenderest benevolence can suggest, is to heal the wounded
hearts of humbled, disgraced, but still affectionate parents,
brethren, and sisters?
Is the progress of an intimate acquaintance, should it be discovered
that there are certain traits of character in one of the parties,
which both are fully convinced will be a source of unhappiness,
through life, there may be no special impropriety in separating.
And yet even then I would say, avoid haste. Better consider for
an hour and repent for a year, or for life. But let it be remembered,
that before measures of this kind are even hinted at, there must
be a full conviction of their necessity, and the mutual and hearty
concurrent of both parties. Any steps of this kind, the reasons
for which are not fully understood on both sides, and mutually
satisfactory, as well as easily explicable to those friends who
have a right to inquire on the subject, are criminal; -- nay more;
they are brutal.
I have alluded to indirect promises of marriage, because I conceive
that the frequent opinion among young men that nothing is binding
but a direct promise, in so many words, is not only erroneous,
but highly dishonorable to those who hold it. The strongest pledges
are frequently given without the interchange of words. Actions
speak louder than words; and there is an attachment sometimes
formed, and a confidence reposed, which would be, in effect, weakened
by formalities. The man who would break a silent engagement, merely
because it is a silent one, especially when he has taken a course
of conduct which he knew would be likely to result in such engagement,
and which perhaps he even designed, is deserving of the public
contempt. He is even a monster unfit to live in decent society.
But there are such monsters on the earth's surface. There are
individuals to be found, who boast of their inhuman depredations
on those whom it ought to be their highest happiness to protect
and aid, rather than injure. They can witness, almost without
emotion, the heavings of a bosom rent with pangs which themselves
have inflicted. They can behold their unoffending victim, as unmoved
as one who views a philosophical experiment; -- not expiring,
it is true, but despoiled of what is vastly dearer to her than
life -- her reputation. They can witness all this, I say, without
emotion, and without a single compunction of conscience. And yet
they go on, sometimes with apparent prosperity and inward peace.
At any rate, they live. No lightening blasts them; no volcano
pours over them its floods of lava; no earthquake engulfs them.
They are permitted to fill up the measure of their wickedness.
Perhaps they riot in ease, and become bloated with luxury. But
let this description of beings -- men I am almost afraid to call
them -- remember that punishment, though long deferred, cannot
be always evaded. A day of retribution must and will arrive. For
though they may not be visited by what a portion of the community
call special 'judgments,' yet their punishment is not the less
certain. The wretch who can commit the crime to which I have referred,
against a fellow being, and sport with those promises, which,
whether direct or indirect, are of all things earthly among the
most sacred, will not, unless he repents, rest here. He will go
on from step to step in wickedness. He will harden himself against
every sensibility to the woes of others, till he becomes a fiend
accursed, and wether on this side of the grave, or the other,
cannot but be completely miserable. A single sin may not always
break in upon habits of virtue so as to ruin an individual at
once; but the vices go in gangs, or companies. One admitted and
indulged, and the whole gang soon follow. And misery must follow
sin, at a distance more or less near, as inevitably as a stone
falls to the ground, or the needle points to the pole.
Some young men reason thus with themselves. If doubts about the
future have already risen -- if my affections already begin to
waver at times -- what is not to be expected after marriage? And
is it not better to separate, even without a mutual concurrence,
than to make others, perhaps many others, unhappy for life?
In reply, I would observe, in the first place, that though this
is the usual reason which is assigned in such cases, it is not
generally the true one. The fact is, the imagination is suffered
to wander where it ought not; and the affections are not guarded
and restrained, and confined to their proper object. And if there
be a diminution of attachment, it is not owing to any change in
others, but in ourselves. If our affliction has become less ardent,
let us look within, for the cause. Shall others suffer for our
own fault?
But, secondly, we may do much to control the affections, even
after they have begun to wander. We still seek the happiness of
the object of our choice, more, perhaps, than that of any other
individual. Then let us make it our constant study to promote
it. It is a law of our natures, as irrevocable as that of the
attraction of gravitation, that doing good to others produces
love to them. And for myself I do not believe the affections of
a young man can diminish towards one whose happiness he is constantly
studying to promote by every means in his power, admitting there
is not obvious change in her character. So that not young person
of principle ought ever to anticipate any such result.
Nor has a man any right to sport with the affections of a young
woman, in any way whatever. Vanity is generally the tempter in
this case; a desire to be regarded as being admired by the women;
a very despicable species of vanity, but frequently greatly mischievous,
not withstanding. You do not, indeed, actually, in so many words,
promise to marry; but the general tenor of your language and deportment
has that meaning; you know that your meaning is so understood;
and if you have not such meaning; if you be fixed by some previous
engagement with, or greater liking for another; if you know you
are here sowing the seeds of disappointment; and if you persevere,
in spite of the admonitions of conscience, you are guilty of deliberate
deception, injustice and cruelty. You make to God an ungrateful
return for those endowments which have enabled you to achieve
this inglorious and unmanly triumph; and if, as is frequently
the case, you glory in such triumph, you may have person, riches,
talents to excite envy; but every just and humane man will abhor
your heart.
The most direct injury against the spiritual nature of a fellow
being is, by leading him into vice. I have heard one young man,
who was entrusted six days in the week to form the immortal minds
and hearts of a score or two of his fellow beings, deliberately
boast of the number of the other sex he had misled. What can be
more base? And must not a terrible retribution await such Heaven
daring miscreants? Whether they accomplish their purposes by solicitation,
by imposing on the judgment, or by powerful compulsion, the wrong
is the same, or at least of the same nature; and nothing but timely
and hearty repentance can save a wretch of this description from
punishment, either here or hereafter.
'Some tempers,' says Burgh, (for nothing can be more in point
than his own words) 'are some impotently ductile, that they can
refuse nothing to repeated solicitation. Whoever takes the advantage
of such persons is guilty of the lowest baseness. Yet nothing
is more common than for the debauched part of our sex to show
their heroism by a poor triumph, over weak, easy, thoughtless
women! -- Nothing is more frequent than to hear them boast of
the ruin of that virtue, of which they ought to have been the
defenders. "Poor fool! she loved me, than therefore could refuse
me nothing." -- Base coward! Dost thou boast of thy conquest over
one, who, by thy own confession, was disabled for resistance,
-- disabled by her affection for thy worthless self! Does affection
deserve such a return? Is superior understanding, or rather deeper
craft, to be used against thoughtless simplicity, and its shameful
success to be boasted of? Dost thou pride theyself that thou has
had are enough to decoy the harmless lamb to thy hand, that thou
mightest shed its blood?'
And yet there are such monsters as Burgh alludes to. There are
just such beings scattered up and down even the fairest portions
of the world we live in, to mar its beauty. We may hope, for the
honor of human nature, they are few. He who can bring himself
to believe their number to be as great as one in a thousand, may
well be disposed to blush
'And hang his head, to own himself a man.'
I have sometimes wished these beings -- men they are not -- would
reflect, if it were but for one short moment. They will not deny
the excellency of the golden rule, of doing to others as they
wish others to do by themselves. I say they will not deny it,
in theory; why then should they despise it in practice?
Let them think a moment. Let them imagine themselves in the place
of the injured party. Could this point be gained; could they be
induced to reflect long enough to see the enormit of their guilt
as it really is, or as the Father in heaven may be supposed to
see it, there might be hope in their case. Or if they find it
difficult to view themselves as the injured, let them suppose,
rather a sister or a daughter. What seducer is so lost to all
natural affection as not to have his whole soul revolt at the
bare thought of having a beloved daughter experience the treatment
which he has inflicted? Yet the being whom he has ruined had brothers
or parents; and those brothers had a sister; and those parents
a daughter!
SECTION II. Licentiousness .
I wish it were in my power to finish my remarks in this place,
without feeling that I had made an important omission. But such
is the tendancy of human nature, especially in the case of the
young and ardent, to turn the most valuable blessings conferred
on man into curses, -- and poison, at their very sources, the
purest streams of human felicity, -- that it will be necessary
to advert briefly but plainly to some of the most frequent forms
of youthful irregularity.
Large cities and thinly settled places are the extremes of social
life. Here, of course, vice will be found in its worst forms.
It is more difficult to say which extreme is worst, among an equal
number of individuals; but probably the city; for in the country
vice is oftener solitary, and less frequently social; while in
the city it is not only social but also solitary.
A well informed gentlement from New Orleans, of whose own virtue,
by the way, I have not the highest confidence, expressed, lately
the strongest apprehension that the whole race of young men in
our cities, of the present generation, will be ruined. Others
have assured me that in the more northern cities, the prospect
is little, if any, more favorable.
It is to be regretted that legislators have not found out the
means of abolishing those haunts in cities which might be appropriately
termed schools of licentiousness, and thus diminishing an aggregate
of temptation already sufficiently large. but the vices, like
their votaries, go in companies. Until, therefore, the various
haunts of intemperance in eating and drinking, and of gambling
and stage-playing, can be broken up, it may be considered vain
to hope for the disappearance of those sties of pollution which
are their almost inevitable results. We might as well think of
drying up the channel of a mighty river, while the fountains which
feed it continue to flow as usual.
There is now in Pennsylvania, -- it seems unnecessary to name
the place -- a man of thirty-five years old, with all the infirmities
of 'three score and ten.' Yet his premature old age, his bending
and tottering form, wrinkled face, and hoary head, might be traced
to solitary and social licentiousness.
This man is not alone. There are thousands in every city who are
going the same road; some with slow are cautious steps, others
with a fearful rapidity. Thousands of youth on whom high expectations
have been placed, are already on the highway that will probably
lead down to disease and premature death.
Could the multitude of once active, sprightly, and promising young
men, whose souls detested open vice, and who, without dreaming
of danger, only found their way occasionally to a lottery office,
and still more rarely to the theatre or the gambling house, until
led on step by step they ventured down those avenues which lead
to the chambers of death, from which few ever return, and none
uninjured; -- could the multitudes of such beings, which in the
United States alone, (though admitted to be the paradise of the
world,) have gone down to infamy through licentiousness, be presented
to our view, at once, how would it strike us with horror! Their
very numbers would astonish us, but how much more their appearance!
I am supposing them to appear as they went to the graves, in their
bloated and disfigured faces, their emaciated and tottering frames,
bending at thirty years of age under the appearance of three or
four score; diseased externally and internally; and positively
disgusting, -- not only to the eye, but to some of the other senses.
One such monster is enough to fill the soul of those who are but
moderately virtuous with horror; what then would be the effect
of beholding thousands? In view of such a scene, is there a young
man in the world, who would not form the strongest resolution
not to enter upon a road which ends in wo so remediless?
But it should be remembered that these thousands were once the
friends -- the children, the brothers, -- yes, sometimes the nearer
relatives of other thousands. They had parents, sisters, brothers;
sometimes (would it were not true) wives and infants. Suppose
the young man whom temptation solicits, were not only to behold
the wretched thousands already mentioned, but the many more thousands
of dear relatives mourning their loss; -- not by death, for that
were tolerable -- but by an everlasting destruction from the presence
of all purity or excellence. Would he not shrink back from the
door which he was about to enter, ashamed and aghast, and resolve
in the strength of his Creator, never more to indulge a thought
of a crime so disastrous in its consequences?
And let every one remember that the army of ruined immortals which
have been here presented to the imagination, is by no means a
mere fancy sketch. There is a day to come which will disclose
a scene of which I have given but a faint picture. For though
the thousands who have thus destroyed their own bodies and souls,
with their agonized friends and relatives, are scattered among
several millions of their fellow citizens, and, for a time, not
a few of them elude the public gaze, yet their existence is as
much a reality, as if they were assembled in one place.
'All this,' it may be said, 'I have often heard, and it may be
true. But it does not apply to me. I am in no danger. You speak
of a path, I have never entered; or if I have ever done so, I
have no idea of returning to it, habitually. I know my own strength;
how far to go, and when and where to stop.'
But is there one of all the miserable, in the future world, who
did not once think the same? Is there one among the thousands
who have thus ruined themselves and those who had been as dear
to them as themselves, that did not once feel a proud conciousness
that he 'knew his own strength?' Yet now where is he?
Beware then. Take not the first step. Nay, indulge not for an
instant, the thought of a first step. Here you are safe. Every
where else is danger. Take one step, and the next is more easy;
the tempation harder to resist.
Do you call this preaching? Be it so then. I feel, and deeply
too, that your immortal minds, those gems which were created to
sparkle and shine in the firmament of heaven, are in danger of
having their lustre for ever tarnished, and their brightness everlastingly
hid beneath a thicker darkness than that which once covered the
land of Egypt.
C. S. was educated by New England parents, in one of the most
flourishing of New England villages. He was all that anxious friends
could hope or desire; all that a happy community could love and
esteem. As he rose to manhood he evinced a full share of 'Yankee'
activity and enterprise. Some of the youth in the neighborhood
were traders to the Southern States, and C. concluded to try his
fortune among the rest.
He was furnished with two excellent horses and a wagon, and every
things necessary to ensure success. His theatre of action was
the low country of Virginia and North Carolina, and his head-quarters,
N---------, whither he used to return after an excursion of a
month or six week, to spend a few days in that dissipated villiage.
Young C. gradually yielded to the temptations which the place
afforded. First, he engaged in occasional 'drinking bouts,' next
in gaming; lastly, he frequented a hous of ill fame. This was
about the year 1819.
At the end of the year 1820, I saw him, but -- now changed! The
eye that once beamed with health, and vigor, and cheerfulness,
was now dimmed and flattened. The countenance which once shone
with love and good-will to man, was pale and suspicious, or occasionally
suffused with stagnant, and sickly, and crimson streams. The teeth,
which were once as white as ivory, were now blackened by the use
of poisonous medicine, given to counteract a still more poisonous
and loathsome disease. The frame, which had once been as erect
as the stately cedar of Lebanon, was, at the early age of thirty,
beginning to bend as with years. The voice, which once spoke forth
the sentiments of a soul of comparative purity, now not unfrequently
gave vent to the licentious song, the impure jest, and the most
shocking oaths, and heaven-daring impiety and blashphemy. The
hands which were once like the spirit within, were now not unfrequently
joined in the dance, with the vilest of the vile!
I looked, too, at his external circumstances. Once he had friends
whom he loved to see, and from whom he was glad to hear. Now it
was a matter of indifference both to him and them whether they
ever saw each other. The hopes of parents, and especially of 'her
that bare him' were laid in the dust; and to the neighborhood
of which he had once been the pride and ornament, he was fast
becoming as if he had never been.
He had travelled first with two horses, next with one; afterward
on foot with a choice assortment of jewelry and other pedlar's
wares; now his assortment was reduced to a mere handful. He could
purchase to the value of a few dollars, take a short excursion,
earn a small sum, and return -- not to a respectable house, as
once, -- but to the lowest of resorts, to expend it.
Here, in 1821, I last saw him; a fair candidate for the worst
contagious diseases which occasionally infest that region, and
a pretty sure victim to the first severe attack. Or if he should
even escape these, with the certainty before him of a very short
existence, at best.
This is substantially the history of many a young man whose soul
was once as spotless as the of C. S. Would that young men knew
their strength, and their dignity; and would put forth but half
the energy that God has given them. Then they would never approach
the confines of those regions of dissipation, for when they have
once entered them, the soul and the body are often ruined forever.
There are in every city hundreds of young men -- I regret to say
it, -- who should heed this warning voice. Now they are happily
situated, beloved, respected. They are engaged in useful and respectable
avocations, and looking forward to brighter and better scenes.
Let them beware lest there should be causes in operation, calculated
to sap the foundations of the castle which fancy's eye has builded,
(and which might even be realized); and lest their morning sun,
which is now going forth in splendor, be not shrouded in darkness
ere it has yet attained its meridian height.
Every city affords places and means of amusement, at once rational,
satisfying, and improving. Such are collections of curiousities,
natural and artificial, lectures on science, debating clubs, lyceums,
&c. Then the libraries which abound, afford a source of never
ending amusement and instruction. Let these suffice. At least,
'touch not, handle not' that which an accumulated and often sorrowful
experience has shown to be accursed.
Neither resort to solitary vice. If this practice should not injure
your system immediately, it will in the end. I am sorry to be
obliged to advert to this subject; but I know there is occasion.
Youth, especially those who lead a confined life, seek occasional
excitement. Such sometimes resort to this lowest, -- I may say
most destructive of practices. Such is the constitution of things,
as the Author of Nature has established it, that if every other
vicious act were to escape its merited punishment in this world,
the one in question could not. Whatever its votaries may think,
it never fails, in a single instance, to inure them, personally;
and consequently their posterity, should any succeed them.
It is not indeed true that the foregoing vices do of themselvees,
produce all this mischief directly; but as Dr. Paley has well
said, criminal intercourse 'corrupts and depraves the mind more
than any single vice whatsoever.' It gradually benumbs the conscience,
and leads on, step by step, to those blacker vices at which the
youth once would have shuddered.
But debasing as this vice is, it is scarcely more so than solitary
gratification. The former is not always at hand; is attended,
it may be, with expense; and with more or less danger of exposure.
But the latter is practicable whenever temptation or rather imagination
solicits, and appears to the morbid eye of sense, to be attended
with not hazard. Alas! what a sad mistake is made here! It is
a fact well established by medical men, that every error on this
point is injurious; and that the constitution is often more surely
or more effectively impaired by causes which do not appear to
injure it in the least, than by occasional and heavier shocks,
which rouse it to a reaction. The one case may be compared to
daily tippling, the other to those periodical drunken follies,
which, having an interval of weeks or months between them, give
the system time to recover, in part, (but in part only) from the
violence it had sustained.
I wish to put the younger portion of my readers upon their guard
against a set of wretches who take pains to initiate youth, while
yet almost children, into the practice of the vice to which I
have here adverted. Domestics -- where the young are too familiar
with them -- have been known to be thus ungrateful to their employers.
There are, however, people of several classes, who do not hesitate
to mislead, in this manner.
But the misfortune is, that this book will not be apt to fall
into the hands of those to whom these remarks apply, till the
ruinous habit is already formed. And then it is that counsel sometimes
comes too late. Should these pages meet the eye of any who have
been misled, let them remember that they have begun a career which
multitudes repent bitterly; and from which few are apt to return.
But there have been instances of reform; therefore none ought
to despair. 'What man has done, man may do.'
They should first set before their minds the nature of the practice,
and the evils to which it exposes. But here comes the difficulty.
What are its legitimate evils? They know indeed that the written
laws of God condemn it; but the punishment which those laws threaten,
appears to be remote and uncertain. Or if not, they are apt to
regard it as the punishment of excess, merely. They, prudent souls,
would not, for the world, plunge into excess. Besides, 'they injure
none but themselves.' they tell us.
Would it were true that they injured none but themselves! Would
there wer not generations yet unborn to suffer by inheriting feeble
constitutions, or actual disease, from their progenitors!
Suppose, however, they really injured nobody by themselves. Have
they a right to do even this? They will not maintain, for one
moment, that they have a right to take away their own life. But
what right, then, to they allow themselves to shorten it, or diminish
its happiness while it lasts?
Here the questions recurs again: Does solitary gratification actually
shorten life, or diminish its happiness?
The very fact that the laws of God forbid it, is an affirmative
answer to this question. For nothing is more obvious than that
all other vices which that law condemns, stand in the way of our
present happiness, as well as the happines of futurity. Is this
alone an exception to the general rule?
But I need not make my appeal to this kind of authority. You rely
on human testimony. You believe a thousand things which yourselves
never saw or heard. Why do you believe them, except upon testimony
-- I mean given either verbally, or, what is the same thing, in
books?
Now if the accumulated testimony of medical writers from the days
of Galen, and Celsus, and Hippocrates, to the present hour, could
have any weight with you, it would settle the point at once. I
have collected, briefly, the results of medical testimony on this
subject, in the next chapter; but if you will take my statements
for the present, I will assure you that I have before me documents
enough to fill half a volume like this, form those who have studied
deeply these subjects, whose united language is, that the practice
in question, indulged in any degree, is destructive to body and
mind; and that although in vigorous young men, no striking evil
may for some time appear, yet the punishment can no more be evaded,
except by early death, than the motion of the arth can be hindered.
And all this, too, without taking into consideration the terrors
of judgments to come.
But why, then, some may ask, are animal propensities given us,
if they are not to be indulged? The appropriate reply is, they
are to be indulged; but it is only in accordance with the laws
of God; never otherwise. And the wisdom of these laws, did they
not rest on other and better proof, is amply confirmed by that
great body of medical experience already mentioned. God has delegated
to man, a sort of subcreative power to perpetuate his own race.
Such a wonderful work required a wonderful apparatus. And such
is furnished. The texture of organs for this purpose is of the
most tender and delicate kind, scarcely equalled by that of the
eye, and quite as readily injured; and this fact ought to be known,
and considered. But instead of leaving to human choice or caprice
the execution of the power thus delegated, the great Creator has
made it a matter of duty; and has connected with the lawful discharge
of that duty, as with all others, enjoyment. But when this enjoyment
is sought in any way, not in accordance with the laws prescribed
by reason and revelation, we diminish (whatever giddy youth may
suppose, ) the sum total of our own happiness. Now this is not
the cold speculation of age, or monkish austerity. It is a sober
matter of fact.
It is said that young men are sometimes in circumstances which
forbid their conforming to those laws, were they disposed to do
so.
Not so often however, as is commonly supposed. Marriage is not
such a mountain of difficulty as many imagine. This I have already
attempted to show. One circumstance to be considered, in connection
with this subject, is, that in any society, the more there is
of criminal indulgence, whether secret or social, the more strongly
are excuses for neglecting matrimony urged. Every step which a
young man takes is forbidden paths, affords him a plea in behalf
of the next. The farther he goes, the less the probability of
his returning to the ways of purity, on entering those of domesitic
felicity.
People in such places as London and Paris, marry much later in
life, upon the average, than in country places. And is not the
cause obvious? And is not the same cause beginning to produce
similar effects in our own American cities?
But suppose celibacy in some cases, to be unavoidable, can a life
of continence, in the fullest sense of the term, be favorable
to health? This question is answered by those to whose writings
I have already referred, in the affirmative. But it is also answered
by facts, though from the nature of the case these facts are not
always easy of access. We have good reason to believe that Sir
Isaac Newton and Dr. Fothergill, never once in their lives deviated
from the strict laws of rectitude on this point. And we have no
evidence that they were sufferers for their rigid course of virtue.
The former certainly enjoyed a measure of health and reached an
age, to which few, in any circumstances, attain; and the latter
led an active and useful life to nearly three-score and ten. There
are living examples of the same purity of character, but they
cannot, of course, be mentioned in this work.
Several erroneous views in regard to the animal economy which
have led to the very general opinion that a life of celibacy --
strictly so, I mean -- cannot be a life of health, might here
be exposed, did either the limits or the nature of the work permit.
It is not the state of celibacy -- entirely so, I always mean
-- is positively injurious; but that a state of matrimony is more
useful; and, as a general rule, attended with more happines.
It is most ardently to be hoped, that the day is not far distant
when every young man will study the laws and functions of the
human frame for himself. This would do more towards promoting
individual purity and public happiness, than all the reasoning
in the world can accomplish without it. Men, old or young, must
see for themselves how 'fearfully' as well as 'wonderfully' they
are made, before they can have a thorough and abiding conviction
of the nature of disobedience, or fo the penalties that attend,
as well as follow it. And in proportion, as the subject is studied
and understood, may we not hope celibacy will become less frequent,
and marriage -- honorable, and, if you please, early marriage
-- be more highly esteemed?
This work is not addressed to parents; but should it be read by
any who have sons, at an age, and in circumstances, which expose
them to temptation, and in a way which will be very apt to secure
their fall, let them beware. *
* Parents who inform their children on this subject, generally
begin too late. Familiar conversational explanation, begun as
soon as there is reason to apprehend danger, and judiciously pursued,
is perhaps the more successful method of preventing evil.
Still, the matter must be finally decided by the young themselves.
They, in short, must determined the question whether they will
rise in the scale of being, through every period of their existence,
or sink lower and lower in the depths of degradation and wo. They
must be, after all, the arbiters of their own fate. No influence,
human or divine, will ever force them to happiness.
The remainder of this section will be devoted to remarks on the
causes which operate to form licentious feelings and habits in
the young. My limits, hwoever, will permit me to do little more
than mention them. And if some of them might be addressed with
more force to parents than to young men, let it be remembered
that the young may be parents, and if they cannot recall the past,
and correct the errors in their own education, they can, at least,
hope to prevent the same errors in the education of others.
1 FALSE DELICACY.
Too much of real delicacy can never be inculcated; but in our
early management, we seem to implant the falcse, instead of the
true. The language we sue, in answering the curious questions
of children, often leads to erroneous associations of ideas; and
it is much better to be silent. By the falsehoods which we think
it necessary to tell, we often excite still greater curiousity,
instead of satisfying that which already exists. I will not undertake
to decide what ought to be done; but silence, I am certain, would
be far better than falsehood.
There is another error, which is laid deeper still, because it
begins earlier. I refer to the half Mohammedan practice of separating
the two sexes at school. This practice, I am aware has strong
advocates; but it seems to me they cannot have watched too closely
the early operations of their own minds, and observed how curiousity
was awakened, and wanton imaginations fostered by distance, and
apparant and needless reserve.
2. LICENTIOUS BOOKS, PICTURES, &C.
This unnatural reserve, and the still more unnatural falsehoods
already mentioned, prepare the youthful mind for the reception
of any things which has the semblance of information on the points
to which curiosity is directed. And now comes the danger. The
world abounds in impure publications, which almost all children,
(boys especially,) at sometime or other, contrive to get hold
of, in spite of parental vigilance. If these books contained truth,
and nothing but truth, their clandestine circulation would do
less mischief. But they generally impart very little information
which is really valuable; on the contrary they contain much falsehood;
especially when they profess to instruct on certain important
subjects. Let me repeat it then, they cannot be relied on; and
in the language of another book, on another subject; 'He that
trusteth' to them, 'is a fool.'
The same remarks might be extended, and with even more justice,
to licentious paintings and engravings, which circulate in various
ways. And I am sorry to include in this charge not a few which
are publically exhibited for sale, in the windows of our shops.
You may sometimes find obscene pictures under cover of a watch-case
or snuff box. In short, there would often seem to be a general
combinations of human and infernal efforts to render the juvenile
thoughts and affections impure; and not a few parents themselves
enter into the horrible league.
On this subject Dr. Dwight remarks; 'The numbers of the poet,
the delightful melody of song, the fascinations of the chisel,
and the spell of the pencil, have been all volunteered in the
service of Satan for the moral destruction of unhappy man. To
finish his work of malignity the stage has lent all its splendid
apparatus of mischief; the shop has been converted into a show
box of tempations; and its owner into a pander of iniquity.' And
in another place; 'Genius, in every age, and in every country,
has, to a great extent, prostituted its elevated powers for the
deplorable purpose of seducing thoughtless minds to this sin.'
Are these remarks too sweeping? In my own opinion, not at all.
Let him, who doubts, take a careful survey of the whole of this
dangerous ground.
3. OBSCENE AND IMPROPER SONGS.
The prostitution of the melody of song, mentioned by Dr. Dwight,
reminds me of another serious evil. Many persons, and even not
a few intelligent parents, seem to think that a loose or immoral
song cannot much injure their children, especially if they express
their disapprobation of it afterwards. As if the language of the
tongue could give the lie to the language of the heart, already
written, and often deeply, in the eye and the countenance. For
it is notorious that a considerable proportion of parents tolerate
songs containing very improper sentiments, and hear them with
obvious interest, how much so ever they may wish their children
to have a better and purer taste. The common 'love songs' are
little better than those already mentioned.
It is painful to think what errors on this subject are sometimes
tolerated even by decent society. I knew of a schoolmaster who
did not hesitate to join occasional parties, (embracing, among
others, professedly Christian parents,) for the purpose of spending
his long winter evenings, in hearing songs from a very immoral
individual, not a few of which were adapted to the most corrupt
taste, and unfit to be heard in good society. Yet the community
in which he taught was deemed a religious community; and the teacher
himself prayed in his school, morning and evening! Others I have
known to conduct even worse, though perhaps not quite so openly.
I mention these things, not to repoach teachers, -- for I think
their moral character, in this country, generally, far better
than their intellectual, -- but as a specimen of perversion in
the public sentiment; and also as a hint to all who have the care
of the young. Pupils at school, cannot fail to make correct inferences
form such facts as the foregoing.
4. DOUBLE ENTENDRES. *
By this is meant seeminly decent speeches, with double meaning.
I mean these becaus they prevail, in some parts of the country,
to a most alarming degree; and because parents seem to regard
them as perfectly harmless. Shall I say -- to show the extent
of the evil -- that they are sometimes heard from both parents?
Now no serious observer of human life and conduct can doubt that
by every species of impure language, whether in the form of hints,
innuendoes, double entendres, or plainer speech, impure thoughts
are awakened, a licentious imagination inflamed, and licentious
purposes formed, which would otherwise never have existed. Of
all such things an inspired writer has long ago said -- and the
language is still applicable; -- 'Let them not be so much as named
among you.'
I have been in families where the loose insinuations, and coarse
innuendoes were so common,
* Pronounced entaunders.
that the presence of respectable company scarcely operated as
a restraint upon the unbridled tongues, even of the parents! Many
of these things had been repeated so often, and under such circumstances
that the children, at a very early age, perfectly understood their
meaning and import. Yet had these very same children asked for
direct information, at this time, on the subjects which had been
rendered familiar to them thus incidentally, the parents would
have startled; and would undoubtedly have repeated to them part
of a string of falsehoods, with which they has been in the habit
of attempting to 'cover up' these matter; though with the effect,
in the end, of rendering the children only so much the more curious
and inquisitive.
But this is not all. The filling of the juvenile mind, long before
nature brings the body to maturity, with impure imaginations,
not only preoccupies the ground which is greatly needed for something
else, and fillis it with shoots of a noxious growth, but actually
induces, if I may so say, a precocious maturity. What I mean,
is, that there arises a morbid or diseased state of action of
the vessels of the sexual system, which paves the way for premature
physical development, and greatly increases the danger of youthful
irregularity.
5. EVENING PARTIES.
One prolific source of licentious felling and action may be found,
I think, in evening parties, especially when protracted to a late
hour. It has always appeared to me that the injury to health which
either directly or indirectly grows out of evening parties, was
a sufficient objection to their recurrence, especially when the
assembly is crowded, the room greatly heated, or when music and
dancing are the accompaniments. Not a few young ladies, who after
perspiring freely at the latter exercise, go out into the damp
night air, in a thin dress, contract consumption; and both sexes
are very much exposed, in this way, to colds, rheumatisms, and
fevers.
But the great danger, after all, is to reputation and morals.
Think of a group of one hundred young ladies and gentlement assembling
at evening, and under cover of darkness, joining in conclave,
and heating themselves with exercise and refreshments of an exciting
nature, such as coffee, tea, wine &c. and in some parts of our
country with diluted distilled spirit; and 'keeping up the steam,'
as it is sometimes called, till twelve or one o'clock, and frequently
during the greater part of the night. For what kind and degree
of vice, do not such scenes prepare those who are concerned in
them?
Nothing which is said here is intended to be lev- elled against
dancing, in itself considered; but only against such a use, or
rather abuse of it as is made to inflame and fee impure imaginations
and bad passions. On the subject of dancing as an amusement, I
have already spoken in another part of the work.
I have often wondered why the strange opinion has come to prevail,
especially among the industrious yeomanry to the interior of the
country, that it is economical to turn night into day, in this
manner. Because they cannot very well spare their sons or apprentices
in the daytime, as they suppose, they suffer them to go abroad
in the evening, and perhaps to be out all night, when it may justly
be questioned whether the loss of energy which they sustain does
not result in a loss of effort during one or two subsequent days,
at least equal to the waste of a whole afternoon. I am fully convinced,
on my own part, that he who should give up to his some or hired
laborer an afternoon, would actually lose a less amount of labor,
taking the week together, than he who should only give up for
this purpose the hours which nature intended should be spent on
sleep.
But -- I repeat it -- the moral evil outweighs all other considerations.
It needs not an experience of thirty years, nor even of twenty,
to convince even a careless observer that no small number of our
youth of both sexes, have, through the influence of late evening
parties, gone down to the chambers of drunkennes and debauchery;
and, with the young man mentioned by Solomon, descended through
them to those of death and hell.
It may be worth while for those sober minded and, otherwise, judicious
Christians, who are in the habit of attending fashionable parties
at late hours, and taking their 'refreshments,' to consider whether
they may not be a means of keeping up, by their example, those
more vulgar assemblies, with all their grossness, which I have
been describing. Is it not obvious that what the wine, and the
fruit, and the oysters, are to the more refined and Christian
circles, what wine and fermented liquors may be to the more blunt
sensibilities of body and mind, in youthful circles of another
description? But if so, where rests the guilt? Or shall we bless
the fountains, while we curse the stream they form?
SECTION III. Diseases of Licentiousness .
The importance of this and the foregoing section will be differently
estimated by different individuals. They were not inserted, however,
without consideration, nor without the approbation of persons
who enjoy a large measure of public confidence. The young ought
at least to know, briefly, to what a formidable host of maladies
secret vice is exposed.
4. Idiotism . Epilepsy, as I have already intimated, often runs on to idiotism;
but sometimes the miserable young man becomes an idiot, without
the intervention of any other obvious disease.
*What inadequate ideas are sometimes entertained by young professors
of religion, and even by those more advanced, in regard to the
purity of character which is indispensalbe to the enjoyment of
a world of bliss -- a world whose very source, sum, end and essence,
are Infinite Purity itself!
Since the first edition of this work was published, I an end to
my existance; which is the more insupportable as it is caused
by myself.'
'I cannot walk two hundred paces,' says another 'without resting
myself; my feebleness is extreme; I have constant pains in every
part of the body, but particularly in the shoulders and chest.
My appetite is good, but this is a misfortune, since what I eat
causes pains in my stomach, and is vomited up. If I read a page
or two, my eyes are filled with tears and become painful: -- I
often sigh involuntarily.'
A fourth says; 'I rest badly at night, and am much troubled with
dreams. The lower part of my back is weak, my eyes are often painful,
and my eyelids swelled an red. I have an almost constant cold;
and an oppression at the stomach. In short, I had rather be laid
in the silent tomb, and encounter that dreadful uncertainty, hereafter,
have received several letters of thanks for having ventured upon
this long neglected, but important subject. Teachers, especially,
have acknowledged their obligations, both it person and by correspondance.
One teacher, in particular, a man of considerable experience,
writes as follows:--
"The last chapter of the book, is by no means, in my view, the
least important. I regret to say that many religious young men,
through ignorance, are attached to the last mentioned vice. I
could wish that what you have written could be carefully read
by every young man, at least, in our land. Alas, dear sir, how
little do mortals know, when they do not understand their physical
structure!'
than remain in my present unhappy and degraded situation.'
The reader should remember that the persons whose miseries are
here described, were generally sufferers from hypochondria. They
had not advanced to the still more horrid stages of palsy, apoplexy,
epilepsy, idiotism, St. Vitus's dance, blindness, or insanity.
But they had gone so far, that another step in the same path,
might have rendered a return impossible.
The reader will spare me the pain of presentin, in detail, any
more of these horrid cases. I write for YOUNG MEN, the strength
-- the bone, muscle, sinew, and nerve -- of our beloved country.
I write for those who, -- though some of them may have erred --
are glad to be advised, and if they deem the advice good, are
anxious to follow it. I write too, in vain, if it not be for young
men who will resolve on reformation, when they believe that their
present and future happiness is at stake. And, lastly, I have
not read correctly the pages in the book of human nature if I
do not write for those who can, with God's help, keep every good
resolution.
There are a few publications to which those who are awake to the
importance of the subject, might safely be directed. One or two
will be mentioned presently. It is true that their authors have,
in some instances, given us the details of such cases of disease
as occur but rarely. Still, what has happened, in this respect,
may happend again. And as not moderate drinker of fermented or
spiritous liquors can ever know, with certainty, that if he continues
his habit, he may not finally arrive at confirmed drunkenness,
and the worst diseases which attend it, so no person who departs
but once from rectitude in the matter before us, has any assurance
that he shall not sooner or later suffer all the evils which they
so faithfull describe.
When a young man, who is pursuing an unhappy cource of solitary
vice, threatened as we have seen by the severest penalties earth
or heaven can impose, -- begins to perceive a loss or irregularity
of his appetite; acute pains in his stomach, especially during
digestion, and constant vomitings; -- when to this is added a
weakness of the lungs, often attended by a dry cough, hoarse weak
voice, and hurried or difficult breathing after using considerable
exertion, with a general relaxation of the nervous system; --
when these appearance, or symptoms, as physicians call them, take
place -- let him beware! for punishment of a severer kind cannot
be distant.
I hope I shall have no reader to whom these remarks apply; but
should it be otherwise, happy will it be for him if he takes the
alarm, and walks not another step in the downward road to certain
and terrible retribution. Happiest, however, is he who has never
erred from the first; and who reads these pages as he reads of
those awful scenes in nature, -- the devastations of the lightning,
the deluge, the tornado, the earthquake, and the volcano; as things
to be lamented, and their horrors if possible mitigated or averted,
but with which he has little personal concern.
Sympathizing, however, with his fellow beings -- for though fallen,
they still belong to the same family -- should any reader who
sees this work, wish to examine the subject still more intimately,
I recommend to him a Lecture to Young Men, lately published in
Providence. I would also refer him, to Rees' Cyclopedia, art.
Physical Education .
The article last referred to is so excellent, that I have decided
on introducing, in this place, the closing paragraph. The writer
had been treating the subject, much in the same manner I have
done, only at greater length, and had enumerated the diseases
to which it leads, at the same time insisting on the importance
of informing the young, in a proper manner, of their danger, wherever
the urgency of the case required it. After quoting numerous passages
of Scripture, which, in speaking of impurity, evidently include
this practice, and denouncing it in severe terms, he closes with
the following striking remarks.
'There can be no doubt that God has forbidden it by the usual
course of providence. Its moral effects, in destroying the purity
of the mind, in swallowing up its best affections, and perverting
its sensibilities into this depraved channel, are among its most
injurious consequence; and are what render it so peculiarly difficult
to eradicate the evil. In proportion as the habit strengthens
the difficulty of breaking it, of course, increases; and while
the tendancy of the feelings to this point increases, the vigor
of the mind to effect the conquest of the habit gradually lessens.
'We would tell him (the misguided young man) that whatever might
be said in newspapers respecting the power of medicine in such
cases, nothing could be done without absolute self-control; and
that no medicine whatever could retrieve the mischiefs which the
want of it had caused; and that the longer the practice was continued,
the greater would be the bodily and mental evils it would inevitably
occasion.
'We would then advise him to avoid all situations in which he
found his propensities excited; and especially, as far as possible,
all in which they had been gratified; to check the thoughts and
images which excited them; to shun those associates, or at least
that conversation, and those books, which have the same effect;
to avoid all stimulating food and liquor; to sleep cool on a hard
bed; to rise early, and at once; and to go to bed when likely
to fall asleep at once; to let his mind be constantly occupied,
though not exerted to excess; and to let his bodily powers be
actively employed, every day, to a degree which will make a hard
be the place of sound repose.
'Above all, we would urge him to impress his mind (at times when
the mere thought of it would not do him harm) with the feeling
of horror at the practice; to dwell upon its sinfulness and most
injurious effects; and to cultivate, by every possible means,
an habitual sense of the constant presence of a holy and heart-searching
God, and a lively conviction of the awful effects of his displeasure.'
I should be sorry to leave an impression on any mind that other
forms of licentiousness are innocent, or that they entail no evils
on the constitution. I have endeavored to strike most forcibly,
it is true, at solitary vice; but it was for this plain reason,
that few of the young seem to regard it as any crime at all. Some
even consider it indispensible to health. This belief I have endeavored
to shake; with how much success, eternity only can determine.
Of the guilt of those forms of irregularity, in which more than
one individual and sex are necessarily concerned, many of the
young are already apprized. At least they are generally acquianted
with the more prominent evils which result from what they call
excess. Still if followed in what they deem moderation, and with
certain precautions which could be named, not a few are ready
to believe, at least in the moment of temptation, that there is
no great harm in following their inclinations.
Now is regard to what constitutes excess, every one who is not
moved by Christian principle, will of necessity, have his own
standard, just as it is in regard to solitary vice, or the use
of ardent spirits. And herein consists a part of the guilt. And
it is not till this conviction of our constant tendency to establish
an incorrect standard for ourselves, and to go, in the end, to
the greatest lengths and depths and heights of guilt, can be well
established in our minds, that we shall ever be induced to avoid
the first steps in that road which may end in destruction; and
to take as the only place of safety, the high ground of total
abstinance.
But although the young are not wholly destitute of a sense of
the evils of what they call excess, and of the shame of what is
well known to be its frequent and formidable results, -- so far
as themselves are concerned, -- yet they seem wholly ignorant
of any considerable danger short of this. For so far are they
from admitting that the force of conscience is weakened by every
repeated known and wilful transgression, many think, (as I have
already stated) promiscuous intercourse, where no matrimonial
rights are invaded, if it be so managed as to exempt the parties
immediately concerned from all immediate suffering both moral
and physical, can scarcely be called a transgression, at all.
I wish it were practicable to extend these remarks far enough
to show, as plain as noon-day light can make it, that every criminal
act of this kind -- I mean every instance of irregularity -- not
only produces evil to society generally, in the present generation,
but also inflicts evil on thos that follow. For to say nothing
of those horrid cases where the infants of licentious parents
not only inherit vicious dispositions, but ruined bodies -- even
to a degree, that in some instances excludes a possibility of
the child's surviving many days; -- there are other forms of disease
often entailed on the young which as certainly consign the sufferer
to any early grave, though the passage thither may be more tedious
and lingering.
How must it wring the heart of a feeling young parent to see his
first born child, which for any thing he knows, might have been
possessed of a sound and vigorous body, like other children, enter
the world with incipient scrofula, diseased joints or bones, and
eruptive diseases, in some of their worst forms? Must not the
sight sink him to the very dust? And would he not give worlds
-- had he worlds to give -- to reverse those irreversable but
inscrutible decrees of Heaven, which visit the sins of parents
upon their descendants -- 'unto the third and fourth generations?'
But how easy is it, by timely reflection, and fixed moral principle,
to prevent much of that disease which 'worlds' cannot wholly cure,
when it is once inflicted!
I hazard nothing in saying, then -- and I might appeal to the
whole medical profession to sustain me in my assertion -- that
no person whose system ever suffers, once, from those forms of
disease which approach nearest to the character of special judgments
of Heaven on sin or shame, can be sure of ever wholly recovering
from their effects on his own person; and what is still worse,
can ever be sure of being the parent of a child whose constitution
shall be wholly untainted with disease, of one kind or another.
This matter is not often understood by the community generally;
especially by the young. I might tell them of the diseased eyesight;
the ulcerated -- perhaps deformed -- nose and ears, and neck;
the discoloration, decay, and loss of teeth; the destruction of
the palate, and the fearful inroads of disease on many other soft
parts of the body; besides the softening and ulceration and decay
and eventual destruction of the bones; and to crown all, the awfully
offensive breath and perspiration; and I might entreat them to
abstain, in the fear of God, from those abuses of the constitution
which not unfrequently bring down upon them such severe forms
of punishment.
A thorough knowledge of the human system and the laws to which
all organized bodies are subjected, would, in this respect, do
much in behalf of mankind; for such would be the change of public
sentiment, that the sensual could not hold up their heads so boldly,
as they now do, in the face of it. Happy for mankind when the
vicious shall be obliged, universally, to pass in review before
this enlightened tribunal!
Young men ought to study physiology. It is indeed to be regretted
that there are so few books on this subject adapted to popular
use. But in addition to those recommended on page 346, there are
portions of several works which may be read with advantage by
the young. Such are some of the more intelligible parts of Richerand's
Physiology, as at page 38 of the edition with Dr. Chapman's notes;
and of the 'Outlines of Physiology,' and the 'Anatomical Class
Book,' two works recently issued in Boston. It must, however,
be confessed, that none of these works are sufficiently divested
of technicalities, to be well adapted, as a whole, to the general
reader. Physiology is one of those fountains at which it is somewhat
dangerous to 'taste,' unless we 'drink deep;' on account of the
tendency of superficial knowledge to empiricism. Still, I am fully
of the opinion that even superficial knowledge, on this long neglected
topic, is less dangerous both to the individual and to the community,
than entire ignorance.
And after all, the best guides would be PARENTS. When will Heaven
confer such favors upon us? When will parents become parents indeed?
When will one father or mother in a hundred, exercise the true
parental prerogative, and point out to those whom God has given
them, as circumstances may from time to time demand, the most
dangerous rocks and whirlpools to which, in the voyage of life,
they are exposed? When will every thing else be done for the young
rather than that which ought never to be left undone?
Say not, young reader, that I am wandering. You may be a father.
God grant that if you are, you may also act the parent. Let me
beg you to resolve, and if necessary re-resolve. And not only
resolve, but act. If you are ready to pronounce me enthusiastic
on this subject, let me beg you to suspend your judgment till
the responsibilities and the duties and the anxieties of a parent
thicken about you.
It is painful to see -- everywhere -- the most unquestionable
evidence that this department of education is unheeded. Do you
ask how the evidence is obtained? I answer by asking you how the
physician can discover, -- as undoubtedly he can, -- the progress
of the drinker of spiritous liquors, by his eye, his features,
his breath, nay his very perspiration. And do you think that the
sons or daughters of sensuality, in any of its forms, and at any
of tis stages, can escape his observation?
But of what use is his knowledge, if he may not communicate it?
What person would endure disclosures of this kind respecting himself
or his nearest, perhaps his dearest and most valued friends? No!
the physician's lips must be sealed, and his tongue dumb; and
the young must go down to their graves, rather than permit him
to make any effort to save them, lest offence should be given!
The subject is, however, gaining a hold on the community, for
which none os us can be too thankful. I am acquainted with more
than one parent, who is a parent indeed; for there is no more
reserve on these subjects, than any other. The sons do not hesitate
to ask parental aid, in every known path of temptation. Heaven
grant that such instances may be speedily multiplied. A greater
work of reform can scarcely be desired or anticipated.
But I must draw to a close. Oh that the young were wise,' and
that they would 'consider!' 'There is a way which seemeth right
unto a man, but the end thereof is death.'
There is, then, but one course for the young. Let them do that
which they know to be right, and avoid no only that which they
are sure is wrong, but that also of which they ahve doubts. Let
them do this, moreover, in the fear and love of God. In the language
of a great statesman of the United States to his nephew, a little
before his death, let me exhort you, to 'Give up property, give up every thing -- give up even life itself, rather than presume
to do an immoral act .' Let me remind you too, of the declaration of that Wisdom which
is Infinite; -- 'HE THAT SINNETH AGAINST GOD, DESTROYETH HIS OWN
SOUL.'
AN ADDITIONAL CHAPTER.
THE importance, to a young man, of a few worthy female friends,
has been mentioned in Chapter V. But to him who aspires at the
highest possible degree of improvement or usefulness, a select
number of confidential friends of his own sex is scarcely less
valuable.
Great caution is however necessary in making the selection. "A
man is known by the company he keeps," has long since passed into
a proverb; so well does it accord with universal experience. And
yet many a young man neglects or despises this maxim, till his
reputation is absolutely and irretrievably lost.
Lucius was a remarkable instance of this kind. Extremenly diffident,
he was introduced to a neighborhood where every individual but
one was an entire stranger to him; and this person was one whose
character was despised. But what is life without associates? Few
are wholly destitute of sympathy, even brute animals. Lucius began
to be found in the company of the young man I have mentioned;
and this too in spite of the faithful and earnest remonstrances
of his friends, who foresaw the consequence. But, like too many
inexperienced young men, conscious of his own purity of intention,
he thought there could surely be no harm in occasional walks and
conversations with even a bad man; and who knows, he sometimes
use to say, but I may do him good? At any rate, as he was the
only person with whom he could hold free conversation on "things
which were past," he determined occasionally to associate with
him.
But as it is with many a young lady who has set out with the belief
that a reformed rake makes the best husband, so it was with Lucius;
he found that the work of reforming the vicious was no easy task.
Instead of making the smallest approaches to success, he percieved
at last, when it was too late, that his familiarity with young
Frederick had not only greatly lowered himself; who was encouraged
to pursue his vicious course, by the consideration that it did
not exclude him from the society of those who were universally
beloved and respected.
This anecdote shows how cautious we ought to be in the choice
of friends. Had Lucius been a minister or reformer by profession,
he could have gone among the vicious to reclaim them, with less
danger. The Savior of mankind ate and drank with "publicans and
sinners;" but He was well known as goind among them to save them,
thought even he did not wholly escape obloquy.
Few are aware, how much they are the creatures of imitation; and
how readily they catch the manners, habits of expression, and
even modes of thinking, of those whose company they keep. Let
the young remember, then, that it is not from the remarks of others,
alone, that they are likely to suffer; but that they are really
lowered in the scale of excellence, every time they come in unguarded
contact with the vicious.
It is of the highest importance to seek for companions those who
are not only intelligent and virtuous, in the common acceptation
of the term, but, if it were possible, those who are a little
above them, especially in moral excellence.
Nor is this so difficult a task as many suppose. There are in
every community, a few who would make valuable companions. Not
that they are perfect, -- for perfection, in the more absolute
sense of the term, belongs not to humanity; but their characters
are such, that they would greatly improve yours. And remember,
that it is by no means indespensable that your circle of intimate
friends be very large. Nay, it is not even desirable, in a world
like this. You may have many acquaintances, but I should advise
you to have but few near friends. If you ahve one, who is what
he should be, you are comparatively happy.
SECTION II. Rudeness of Manners .
By rudeness I do not mean mere coarseness or rusticity, for that
were more pardonable; but a want of civility. In this sense of
the term, I am prepared to censure one practice, which in the
section on Politeness, was overlooked. I refer to the practice
so common with young men in some circumstances and places, of
wearing their hats and caps in the house; -- a practice which,
whenever and wherever it occurs, is decidedly reprehensible.
Most of us have probably seen state legislatures in session with
their hats on. This does not look well for the representatives
of the most civil communities in the known world; and though I
do not pretend that in this respect they fairly represent their
constituents, yet I do maintain that the toleration of such a
practice implies a derelicition of the public sentiment.
That the practice of uncovering the head, whenever we are in the
house, tends to promote health, though true, I do not at this
time affirm. It is sufficient for my present purpose, if I succeed
in showing that the contrary practice tends to vice and immorality.
Who has not seen the rudeness of a company of men, assembled perhaps
in a bar-room -- with their hats on; and also witnessed the more
decent behavior of another similar group, assembled in similar
circumstances, without perceiving at once a connection between
the hats and the rudeness of the one company, as well as between
the more orderly behavior and the uncovered heads of the other?
To come to individuals. Attend a party or concert -- no matter
about the name; -- I mean some place where it is pardonable, or
rather deemed pardonable, to wear the hat. Who behave in the most
gentle, christian manner, -- the few who wear their hats or those
who take them off? In a family or school, which are the children
that are the most civil and well behaved? Is it not those who
are most scrupulous, always, to appear within the house with their
heads uncovered? Nay, in going out of schools, churches, &c.,
who are they that put on their hats first, as if it was a work
of self-denial to hold them in their hands, or even suffer them
to remain in place till the blessing is pronounce, or till the
proper time has arrived for using them?
Once more. In passing through New England or any other part of
the United States, entering into the houses of the people, and
seeing them just as they are, who has not been struck with the
fact that where ther is the most of wearing hats and caps in the
house, there is generally the most of ill manners, not to say
of vicious habits and conduct.
Few are sufficienty aware of the influence of what they often
affect to despise as little things. But I have said enought on
this point in its proper place. The great difficulty is in carrying
the principles there inculcated into the various conditions of
life, and properly applying them.
SECTION III. Self-praise.
Some persons are such egotists that rather than not be conspicuous,
they will even speak ill of themselves. This may seem like a contradiction;
but it is nevertheless a truth.
Such conduct is explicable in two ways. Self condemnation may
be merely an attempt to extort praise from the bystanders, by
leading them to deny our statements, or defend our conduct. Or,
it may be an attempt to set ourselves off as abounding in self-knowledge;
a kind of knowledge which is universally admitted to be difficult
of attainment. I have heard people condemn their past conduct
in no measured terms, who would not have borne a tithe of the
same severity of remark from others. Perhaps it is not too much
to affirm that persons of this description are often among the
vainest, if not the proudest of the community.
In general, it is the best way to say as little about ourselves,
our friends, our books, and our circumstances as possible. It
is soon enought to speak of ourselves when we are compelled to
do it in our own defence.