"Oft has it been my lot to mark,A proud, conceited, talking spark,Returning from his finished tour,Grown ten times perter than before.Whatever word you chance to drop,The travelled fool your mouth will stop:—'Sir, ifmyjudgment you'll allow,I'veseen, and sureIought to know!'So begs you'll pay a due submission,And acquiesce in his decision."
"Oft has it been my lot to mark,A proud, conceited, talking spark,Returning from his finished tour,Grown ten times perter than before.Whatever word you chance to drop,The travelled fool your mouth will stop:—'Sir, ifmyjudgment you'll allow,I'veseen, and sureIought to know!'So begs you'll pay a due submission,And acquiesce in his decision."
Send a fool to visit other countries, and he will return—only a "travelledfool!" But give a rightly-constituted man opportunities for thus enriching and expanding his intellectual powers, and he returns to his native land, especially if he be an American, a better citizen, a more enlightened, discriminating companion and friend, and a more liberal, useful, catholic Christian!
Some knowledge of modern languages, especially of the French, has now become an essential part of education. The value of this acquisition, even forhome use, can scarcely be over-estimated, and without a familiarity with colloquial French, a man can hardly hope to pass muster abroad. I will, however, hazard the general observation that, as a rule, it is better to acquire athorough knowledge of one language(and of French, pre-eminently, for practical availability) than a slight acquaintance with several. Few persons, comparatively, in our active, busy land, have leisure, at any period of life, for familiarizing themselves with the literature of more than one language, besides their own, and to possess themere nomenclature of a foreign tongue is but to havethe keyto information. There is, of late, a fashion in this matter, which has little else to recommend it than that itis the fashion; and with persons of sense and intelligence there should be some more powerful and satisfactory motive for the devotion of any considerable portion of "Time, nature's stock."
Aproposof this, nothing is more likely to teach a true estimate of thevalueoftimethan that perfection of education pronounced by the philosopher of old to be the knowledge that weknow nothing! In other words, they only, who in some sort discern, by the light of education, the vast field that lies unexplored before them, can have any adequate conception of the care and discrimination with which they should use that treasure of which alone it is 'a virtue to be covetous.'
Nothing, perhaps, more unmistakably indicates successful self-culture than the habitual exhibition of Tact. It may almost be called another sense, growing out of the proper training of the several faculties of body and mind. And though there is a vast natural difference between persons of similar outward circumstances, in this respect, much may be effected by attention and practice, in the acquisition of this invaluable possession. Like self-possession, tact is one of the essential, distinctive characteristics of good-breeding—the legitimate expression of natural refinement, quick perceptions and kindly sympathies. Cultivate it, then, my young friends, in commonwith every elegant embellishment of the true gentleman! Do not confound it with dissimulation or hypocrisy, nor yet regard it as the antagonist of truthfulness, self-respect and manly dignity. On the contrary, it is the best safeguard of courtesy, as well as of sensibility.
Among useful methods of self-discipline, let me instance the benefit resulting from the early adoption of acode of private morality, if you will permit me to coin a phrase, composed of rules and maxims adapted to your own personal needs and peculiarities of position and mental constitution. Washington, I remember, adopted this practice, and Mr. Sparks, or some one of his biographers, has preserved the record from oblivion. It is many years since I came across these rules, and I can no longer recall more than the fixed, though general, impression that they embodied much practical wisdom and clearly indicated the patient spirit of self-improvement for which the author was remarkable. I commend them to you as a model. Perhaps the immortal biographer who has now given the world a new life of his great namesake, will afford you the means of satisfying yourselves personally of the correctness of my impressions of them.
In preparing this code for yourselves, I can give you no better guide than that afforded by the truth expressively conveyed in the following lines:
"'Tis wisely great to talk with our past hours,To ask them what report they bore to Heaven,And how they might have borne more welcome news."
"'Tis wisely great to talk with our past hours,To ask them what report they bore to Heaven,And how they might have borne more welcome news."
That is a very imperfect conception of education which limits its significance toknowledge gained from books. A profound acquaintance with literary lore is often associated with total ignorance of the actual world, of the laws that govern our moral and intellectual being, and with an incapacity to discern the Beautiful, the True, the Good. They only areeducated, who have acquired that self-knowledge and self-discipline which inspire adisinterested love of our fellow-beings, a reverence for Truth—in the largest sense of the term—and the power of habitually exalting the higher faculties over the animal propensities of our nature.
It is only, therefore, when man unites moral discipline with intellectual culture, that he can be said to be truly educated; and the most ambitious student of books should always bear in mind the truth that thefree play of the intellect is promoted by the development of moral perceptions, and that mental education, even, does not so much consist in loading the memory with facts, as in strengthening the capacity for independent action—for judging, comparing, reflecting.
"The connection between moral and intellectual culture is often overlooked," says a celebrated ethical writer, "and the former sacrificed to the latter. The exaltation of talent, as it is called, above virtue and religion, is the curse of the age.Education is now chiefly a stimulus to learning, and thus may acquire power without the principles which alone make it a good. Talent is worshipped,but, if divorced from rectitude, it will prove more of a demon than a god."
Holding the opinion, then, that a fixed religious belief is the legitimate result of a thorough cultivation of the mental and moral endowments, and that their united and co-equal development constitutes education, you will permit me to impress upon your attention the importance of securing all the aid afforded by thebest lightsvouchsafed to us, in the search after Truth. Conscience is a blind guide, until assisted by discriminating teaching, and honest, persevering endeavors at self-enlightenment. For myself, my experience, in this respect, has afforded me no assistance so reliable and efficient as that to be gathered from theLife of Jesus Christ, as recorded by his various biographers, and collected in the New Testament. I commend its study, renewedly, to you, not in search of a substantiation of human doctrines, not to determine the accuracy of particular creeds, but to possess yourself of simple, intelligible, practicable directions for the wise regulation of your daily life, and those ceaseless efforts at self-advancement which should be the highest purpose of
"A being breathing thoughtful breath,A creature between life and death!"
"A being breathing thoughtful breath,A creature between life and death!"
Accustomed to the standard established by Him who said, "Be ye, therefore, perfect, even as I am perfect," we will not be deterred from the steadfast pursuit of right by the imperfect exhibitions, so frequently made, of its efficacy, in the lives of the professed followers of the wonderful Nazarine. Conscious of the difficulties, the temptations and the discomfitures that we ourselves encounter, we will learn, not only to discriminate between the imperfections of the disciple and the perfection of the Master, but to exercise that charity toward others, of which self-examination teaches us the need, in our own case. Thus, the Golden Rule, which so inclusively epitomizes themoral codeof the Great Teacher, will come to be our guide in determining the path of practical duty, and the course of self-culture, most essential to the security of present happiness, and as a preparative for that eternal state of existence, of which this is but the embryo.
Thus, making God and conscience—which is the voice of God speaking within us—the arbiter between our better nature and the impulses excited by the grosser faculties, we shall be less tempted by outward influences to lower the abstract standard we originally establish, or to reconcile ourselves to an imperfect conformity to its requisitions. Far less, will we permit ourselves to indulge the delusion that we are not, each of us, personally obligated, by our moral responsibilities,to develop all the powers with which we are endowed, to their utmost capacity:—
"They build too low who build below the skies!"
The most perfect of human beings was also the most humble and self-sacrificing, so that they who endeavor to follow his example will not only be devoid of self-righteous assumption, but activelydevoted to the good of their fellow-creatures, and, like Him, pityingly sensible of the wants and the woes of humanity.
That reverence for the spiritual nature of man, as a direct emanation from Deity, which all should cherish, is, also, to be regarded as a part of judicious self-culture. Cultivate an habitual recognition of your celestial attributes, and strive to elevate your whole being into congenial association with the divinity within you:—this do for the benefit of others,
"Be noble! and the nobleness that liesIn other men, sleeping, but never dead,Will rise, in majesty, to meet thine own!"
"Be noble! and the nobleness that liesIn other men, sleeping, but never dead,Will rise, in majesty, to meet thine own!"
With so exalted an aim as I have proposed for your adoption, you will be slow to toleratepeccadilloes, as of little moment, either in a metaphysical or ethical point of view. Dread such tolerance, as sapping the foundations of principle; learn to detect the insidious poison lurking in Burke's celebrated aphorism, and in the infidel philosophy that assumes the brightest semblances that genius can invent, the more readily to deceive. Establish fixed principles of benevolence, justice, truthfulness, religious belief, and adhere steadfastly to them, despite the allurements of the world, the temptings of ambition, or weariness of self-conflict.
ThePursuit of Happinessis but concentrated phraseology for the purposes and endeavors of every human being. May you early learn to distinguishbetween thefalseand thetrue, betweenpleasureandhappiness, early know your duty to yourselves, your country, and your God!
I will but add to these crude, but heart-engendered, observations, a few lines, embodying my own sentiments, and in a form much more impressive than I can command:—
"We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;In feelings, not in figures on a dial.We should count time by heart-throbs.He most livesWho thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best."
"We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;In feelings, not in figures on a dial.We should count time by heart-throbs.He most livesWho thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best."
I have somewhere met with a little bagatelle, somewhat like this:—
Apollo, the god of love, of music, and of eloquence, weary of the changeless brilliancy of Olympus, determined to descend to earth, and to secure maintenance and fame, in the guise of a mortal, byauthorship. Accordingly, the incognito divinity established himself in an attic, after the usual fashion of the sons of genius, and commenced inditing a poem—a long epic poem, plying his pen with the patient industry inspired by necessity, the best stimulus of human effort. At length, the task of the god completed, he, with great difficulty, procured the means of offering it to the world in printed form. The Epic of Apollo, the god of Poetry,fell, pre-doomed, from the press. No commendatory review had been secured, no fashionable publisher endorsedits merits. Disgusted with the pursuit of the wealth and honors of earth, Apollo returned to Olympus, bequeathing to mortals, this advice:—"Would you secure earthly celebrity and riches, do not attempt intellectual and moral culture, butINVENT A PILL!"
Instances of the successfulpursuit of knowledge under difficultiesfrequently present themselves in our contemporaneous history, both in our own country and in foreign lands. Indeed, the history of the human mind goes far toward proving that, not the pampered scions of rank and luxury, but the hardy sons of poverty and toil, have been, most frequently, the benefactors of the race. Well has the poet said:—
"The busy world shoves angrily asideThe man who stands with arms a-kimbo set,Until occasion tell him what to do;And he who waits to have his task marked out,Shall die, and leave his errand unfulfilled."
"The busy world shoves angrily asideThe man who stands with arms a-kimbo set,Until occasion tell him what to do;And he who waits to have his task marked out,Shall die, and leave his errand unfulfilled."
TheLearned Blacksmith, as he is popularly called, acquired thirty, or more, different languages, while daily working at his laborious trade. He was accustomed to study while taking his meals, and to have an open book placed upon the anvil, while he worked. A celebrated physiological writer, alluding to the habits of this persevering devotee of philology, says, that nothing but his uninterrupted practice of his Vulcan-tasks preserved his health under the vast amount of mental labor he imposed upon himself.
Another of our distinguished countrymen, now a prominent popular orator, is said to have accumulated food for future usefulness, while devoting the energies of the outer man to the employment ofa wagoner, amid the grand scenic influences of the majestic Alleghanies. The early life of Franklin, of the "Mill-boy of the Slashes," of Webster, and of many others whose names have become watchwords among us, are, doubtless, familiar to you, as examples in this respect.
Looking upon the busy active world around me,—as I sometimes like to do—from behind the screen of my newspaper, seated in the reading-room of a hotel, I became the auditor of the following conversation, between two young men, who were stationed near a window, watching the passing throng of a crowded thoroughfare.
"By George! there's Van K——," exclaimed one, with unusual animation.
"Which one,—where?" eagerly interrogated his companion.
"That's he, this side, with the Byronic nose, and short steps—he's great! What a fellow he is for making money, though!"
"Does it by his talents, don't he?—nobody like him, in the Bar of this State, for genius,—that's a fact—carries everything through by theforce of genius!"
"Dev'lish clever, no doubt," assented the other,"but he used to study, I tell you, like a hero, when he was younger."
"Never heard that of him," answered the other youth, "how the deuce could he? He has always been aman about town—real fashionable fellow—practised always, since he was admitted, and everybody knows no one dines out, and goes to parties with more of a rush than Van K——, and he always has."
"That may all be, but my mother, who has known him well for years, was telling me, the other day, that those who were most charmed with his wit, and belle-lettre scholarship, when he first came upon thetapis, little knew the pains he took to accomplish himself. 'He exhibited the result, not the machinery,' she said, but hedidstudy, and study hard, when other young fellows were asleep, or raising h——!"
"As for that," interrupted the other, "he always did his full share of all the deviltry going, or I am shrewdly mistaken!"
"Nobody surpasses him at that, any more than at his regular trade," laughed his companion—"oh, but he's rich! Jim Williams was telling me (Jim studies with S—— and Van K——) how he put down old S—— the other day. It seems S—— had been laid on the shelf with a tooth-ache—dev'lish bad—face all swelled up—old fellow real sick, and no mistake. Well, one morning, after he'd been gone several days, he managed to pull up, and make his appearance at the office. It was early—no one there butVan K—— and the boys—Jim and the rest of the fellows—tearing away at the books and papers. So old S—— dropped down in an arm-chair by the stove, and began a hifalutin description of his sorrows and sufferings while he had been sick—quite in the 'pile on the agony' style! Well, just as the old boy got fairly warmed up, and was going it smoothly, Van K—— bawled out:—'Y-a-s! Mr. S——! will you have time, this morning, to look over these papers, in the case of Smith against Brown?' Jim said he never saw an old rip so cut down in all his life, and, as soon as he went out, there was a general bust up, at his expense!"
"How confounded heartless!" exclaimed the elder youth, rising—"by Heaven, I hope a man needn't set aside the common sympathies and decencies of humanity, to secure success in his profession, or in society!" and as he passed me, I caught the flush of manly indignation that mantled his beardless cheek, and the lightning-flash of youthful genius that enkindled his large blue eyes.
"What are you doing there, sir?" inquired one of the early Presidents of our Republic, of his nephew, who was standing before an open writing-desk, in his private apartment.
"Only getting some paper and pencils, sir," replied the young man.
"Thatstationery, sir, belongs to the Federal Government!" returned the American patriot, impressively, and sternly, and resumed his previous occupation.
Daniel Webster, in conversation with a familiar friend, said:
"From the time that, at my mother's feet, or on my father's knees, I first learned to lisp verses from the Sacred Writings, they have been my daily study, and vigilant contemplation. If there be anything in my style or thoughts worthy to be commended, the credit is due to my kind parents, in instilling into my early mind a love for the Scriptures."
"How long will it take you," inquired Napoleon, of the young brother-in-law of Junot, "to acquaint yourself with the Coptic language, and be prepared to go to Egypt on a secret service?"
"Three months, sire," replied the energetic Frenchman, with scarcely a perceptible pause for consideration.
"Bien!" returned the great Captain, "begin at once." And he moved on in his briefly-interrupted walk, through thesalonof the beautiful mother of the youth, saying to the Turkish Ambassador, who accompanied his stroll:—"There is such a son as one might expect from such a mother!"
Three months from that night there left the private cabinet of Napoleon, a stripling, of slight form and yet unsunned brow, charged by him whoknew men by intuition, with a task of fearful risk and responsibility; and, on the morrow, he was embarked on the blue waters of the Mediterranean, speeding toward a land where, from the heights of the Pyramids, a thousand years would behold his deeds!
"I swear, I'll cut that woman! I'll never call there again, that I am determined!" cried Paul Duncan, impetuously.
"But why, brother? Don't judge too hastily," replied his sister, gently. "The whole family have always been so kind to us; for my part, I think one seldom meets persons of more polished manners, and"——
"Polished manners!" interrupted the irritable man, rudely, "what do you callpolished manners? I gave up R—— himself, just because he is so devilishun-polished, long ago. He passed me, once or twice, in Wall-street, with his head down, and didn't even bow! after that I let him run!"
"He is so engrossed in his philanthropic schemes that, I suppose, he really did not see you,"interposed his sister, mildly. "But the ladies are not responsible for his peccadilloes."
"No, they cannot answer for their own,to me," retorted the other, with bitterness. "When I went in, last evening, she and her mother were both in the room. The old lady rose, civilly enough, but Mrs. R—— kept her seat, partly behind a table, even when I went to her and shook hands."
"Dear brother," expostulated his companion,"don't you know that Mrs. R—— is not well? She has not been out inmonths."
"What the devil, then, does she make her appearance for, if she can't observe the common proprieties of life?"
"I doubt whether you would have seen her, had she not been in the room when you entered. Did she remain during the whole time of your call?"
"Certainly; but the old woman slipped out, when some bustle appeared to be going on in the hall, and never made her appearance again, at all, only sending in a servant, just as I was going away, to say that she 'hoped to be excused, as her father had just arrived.'"
"He is very aged, and she always attends upon him herself, when he is there, even to combing his hair," explained the gentler spirit. "I remember admiring her devotion to the old man, who is very peculiar, and somewhat disagreeable to persons generally, when I was staying there a day or two."
"Well, well; what has that to do with her treatment of me? Couldn't she trust him with the rest of the family for a few minutes? There is a tribe of women always on hand there, besides a retinue of servants."
"If you will permit me to say so, without offense, Charley," returned the lady, with sudden determination of manner, "I fear you did not display your usualtacton the occasion, and that you, perhaps, took offense at circumstances resulting from the embarrassment of our friends, rather than from any intention to be impolite to you. Ladies are not always equally well, equally self-possessed, equally in company-mood, or company-dress. I don't know what might not befall any of us, were we not judged of, by our friends rather by our general manner to them, than by any little peculiarities, of which we may be ourselves wholly unconscious at the time."
If you are as much impressed as I was, upon first perusing them, with the following sentences from Sir Humphrey Davy's pen, you will require no apology from me, for transcribing them here.
"I envy no quality of mind or intellect in others—not of genius, power, wit, or fancy; but, if I could choose what would be most delightful, and, I believe, most useful, to me, I should prefera firm religious belief, to every other blessing, for it makes life a discipline of goodness, creates new hope, when earthly hopes vanish, and throws over the decay, the destruction, of existence, the most gorgeous of all light; awakens life, even in death, and, from decay, calls up beauty and divinity; makes an instrument of torture and shame the ladder of ascent to Paradise; and, far above all combination of earthly hopes, calls up the most delightful visions—palms and amaranths, the gardens of the blessed, the security of everlasting joys, where the sensualist and the skeptic view only gloom, decay, and annihilation."
With these sublime words, my dear nephews, I bid you, affectionately,
Adieu!Henry Lunettes.
CHOICE OF COMPANIONS AND FRIENDS—SELECTION OF A PURSUIT IN LIFE—COURTSHIP—MARRIAGE—HOUSEKEEPING—PECUNIARY MATTERS, ETC.
My dear Nephews:
I thinkit was Burke who said that those who desire to improve, should always choose, as companions, persons of more knowledge and virtue than themselves. He had, however, the happy faculty of eliciting information from all with whom he came in contact, even as the bee extracts sweetness from the most insignificant and unattractive flower. It is said of him, you are aware, that he never took refuge under a projecting eave for five minutes, to escape a shower, with another man, without either giving or receiving instruction.
His excellent habit in this respect, nevertheless, in no degree invalidated the practical wisdom of the remark I have ascribed to this celebrated statesman. It is not easy to attach too much importance to thechoice of Companions and Friends, especially during that period of life when we are most susceptible to outward influences.
Much enjoyment is derived from association withthose whose tastes, pursuits, and sentiments are similar to our own; but, in making a selection in this respect, it is better to seek the companionship of persons whose influence will have the effect to elevate rather than to depress our own mental and moral standard. Hence, young persons will be most improved by the example of those whose greater maturity of years and acquirement give them the advantage ofexperience.
Byron and others of the morbid school to which he belonged, or rather, perhaps, which he originated, strove to establish as a truth, the libellous charge that humanity is incapable of true, disinterested friendship. Happily for the dignity and healthfulness of the youthful mind, this affected misanthropy, having had its day, is dying the natural death to which error is doomed, and we are again permitted to respect our common nature without wholly renouncing our claims to poetic sensibility!
It seems, to my poor perceptions, that there needs no better test of the capacities of our fellow-creatures, with regard to the nobler sentiments, thanour own self-consciousness! If we know ourselves capable of lofty aspirations, of self-sacrifice for others' good, of rejoicing in the happiness of our friends, of deep, enduring affection for them, by what arrogant right shall we assume ourselves superior to the race to which we belong?
As the man who habitually rails at the gentler sex must, necessarily, have been peculiarly unfortunate in hisearliest associationswith woman, so hewho professes a disbelief in true friendship, may be presumed, not only to have chosen his associates unwisely, but to be himself ill-constituted and ill-disciplined. If
——"Virtueis more than a shade or a sound,And man may her voice, in this being, obey,"
——"Virtueis more than a shade or a sound,And man may her voice, in this being, obey,"
then is friendship one of the purest and highest sources of human enjoyment!
Eschew, then, the debasing, soul-restraining maxims of Byron, Rochefoucauld, and their imitators, and seek in communion with the gifted and the good, elevated enjoyment and inspiring incentives to noble purposes and manly achievements.
But if the old Spanish proverb, "Show me your friends and I will tell you what you are," is applicable to the selection of ordinary associates, of how much more significance is it in relation toconfidants! To require such a friend, pre-supposes the need ofadvice, and only superiority in age and knowledge of the world and of the human heart, can qualify any one for the responsibility thus assumed. Nothing is more frequently volunteered by the inexperienced than advice, whilethey who properly appreciate its importance are the least likely to give it unasked.
In connection with the subject of confidences and confidants, ponder well the concentrated wisdom contained in this brief sentence: "Be carefulof whom you speak, to whom you speak, and how, and when, and where."
If from self-consciousness we draw conclusiveproofs of the elevated powers of our nature, we also learn, with equal certainty, the need that all have of forbearance, lenity, and forgiveness. They who look forperfectionin human companions, will entail upon themselves a life-long solitude of spirit. Some one has prettily said that the fault of a friend is like a flaw in a beautiful china vase; the defect is remediless; let us overlook it, and dwell only upon what will give us pleasure.
It is almost useless to attempt to give you any advice with respect to the choice of an occupation in life. I trust, however, that you need no argument to convince you that respectability and happiness unitedly require, let your pecuniary circumstances be what they may, that you should have such an incentive to the due exercise of your powers of body and mind.
No consideration is, perhaps, more important than that offollowing the natural inclinationin making this decision, provided outward circumstances render it possible to do so; and in this country a man may almost always overcome obstacles of this kind, by patient perseverance.
The impression, formerly so prevalent, that none but the three learned professions, as they are called, require a thorough education, as a prelude, is, I must believe, much less generally entertained, than when I was a young man. And this is as it shouldbe. There can be no human employment that is not facilitated by the aid of a cultivated, disciplined intellect, and our young countrymen, who so frequently make some temporary and lucrative occupation thestepping-stone to advancement, should always bear this in mind. One day, America, like Venice of old, will be a land of merchant princes—but none will take rank among these self-elevated patricians but they who add the polish, the refinement and the wealth of intellect, to the power derived from external circumstances.
ThePhysical Sciencesand theInventiveandPractical Artsare claiming the attention of our times to a degree never before known; and these afford new and sufficient avenues for the exercise of talents tending rather to mechanical than to metaphysical exertion.
Remember, always, that a man may give dignity to any honest employment to which he shall devote his energies—and better so, than to possess no claims to respect except those bestowed by position. As the pursuit of wealth as an end, rather than a means, is not the noblest of human purposes, so mere occupation and external belongings do not determine the real worth of mind or character.
"I am brother to theWorker,And I love his manly look,As I love a thought of beauty,Living, star-like, in a book.I am brother to the humblest,In the world's red-handed strife,—Those who wield the sword of labor,In the battle ranks of life!* * * * ** * * * *Never let the worker falter,Nor his cause—for hope is strong;He shall live a monarch gloriousIn the people's coming throng.There's a sound comes from the future,Like the sound of many lays;Freedomstrikes her harp for toilers,Loud as when the thunder plays!"
"I am brother to theWorker,And I love his manly look,As I love a thought of beauty,Living, star-like, in a book.I am brother to the humblest,In the world's red-handed strife,—Those who wield the sword of labor,In the battle ranks of life!* * * * ** * * * *Never let the worker falter,Nor his cause—for hope is strong;He shall live a monarch gloriousIn the people's coming throng.There's a sound comes from the future,Like the sound of many lays;Freedomstrikes her harp for toilers,Loud as when the thunder plays!"
While on this subject, permit me to call your attention to a matter which, though of minor importance, is not unworthy of consideration. Men with but little knowledge of the world are apt tobetray their occupation by their manner and conversation—to smell of the shop, as it is often, somewhat coarsely, expressed. Thus, anartistwill talk habitually of such matters as arrest the peculiar perceptions he has quickened into acuteness by culture, and even use the technicalities of language which, though familiar to him, may be, and probably are, unintelligible to persons of general cultivation only. Aphysicianwill sometimes go about with a heavy, ivory-headed cane, and a grand, pompous look, which may, perchance, beprofessional, but it is not the less absurd, unless as a means of impressing the vulgar; and he often falls into the impression that any sacrifice to the Graces, or any regard for the weaknesses of humanity, when in a sick-room, are entirely beneath his dignity.Lawyerswill use Latin phrases, and legal technicalities, in the society of ladies, and thegentlemen of the black clothnot only carry the pulpit into the drawing-room, but permit themselves to be lionized by devout old women, and sentimental young ones, into the best seat in an apartment, or a carriage, the tit-bits at table,and a sum-total of mawkish man-worship. As I have said, all this savors ofignorance of the world, as it does of latent egotism, and deficient self-respect. Note, therefore, the probable effects—when unrestrained by self-scrutiny—ofmoving in a limited sphere of action, and always bear in mind that your individual occupations and interests, though of great personal importance, are comparatively insignificant in the consideration of others; that you yourself make, when viewed from a general stand-point, buta single unitof the great mass to whom your interests, purposes, and merits, are matters alike of profound indifference and unquestioning ignorance.
"No man," says Jean Paul,the only one, as the Germans call him, "can live piously or die righteously without a wife;" and one of the most celebrated observers of human nature among our own countrymen, has bequeathed us the recorded opinion that an early marriage with an amiable and virtuous woman is, next to a firm religious faith, the best safeguard to the happiness and principles of a young man.
In our prosperous land, where the means of living are diversified almost equally with the necessities of life, it is far less hazardous to assume the responsibilities arising from early marriage, than in other countries. Everything is, in a certain sense, precocious here. Extreme youth is no barrier to independence of effort and position—none to self-reliance and success. It may be questioned whether the tax thus prematurely imposed upon the intellect, as well as the physique, does not, in some degree, tend, notonly to eventual mediocrity of power, but to quickened diminution of the vital energies.
Hence it is, doubtless, well to adopt thegolden meanin regard to every important step in life. And though I would by no means counsel you not to marry until you have accumulated a fortune, I would strenuously advise you to possess yourselves of something like a prospective certainty of maintenance, and of sound knowledge of human nature and ofyourself, before so far committing your future happiness.
One prominent cause of the multitude of unhappy unions, I am persuaded, is the ignorance of their own true characters with which young persons are so frequently united. Wholly immature in body and mind, when they commence married life, as they develop, under the influence of time and circumstance, they awaken to the discovery of an irreconcilable difference, not only in taste, sentiment, and opinion, but, what is worse, in principle. This is one extreme. On the contrary, the marriage of persons of decided character, before habit has rendered it difficult to mould themselves into conformity with the peculiarities from which none are exempt, is desirable. The sooner those who are to tread the path of life side by side, learn the assimilation that shall render the way smoother and easier to both, the greater will be their share of earthly contentment; and this will be most readily achieved, no doubt, while youthful pliancy and adaptability still exist.
Every discriminating, self-informed man, should be the best judge of the essential requisites fordomestic happiness, in his individual case. Such an one will not need to be reminded that all abstract or generally-applicable rules must needs be modified, in many instances, for personal usefulness. But no one will question the desirableness ofhealth,good temper, andeducation, in the companion of domestic life.
By education, I do not mean an acquaintance with all, or even with any one, of what are termedaccomplishments. A woman may be well-informed, and self-disciplined, to a degree that will render her an admirable wife for a man of sense, without being able to speak any but her vernacular tongue, or play upon any instrument, save thatharp of a thousand strings—the Human Heart!
Do not understand me as undervaluing the graceful embellishments of social and domestic life, as presented by the lovelier part of creation. I wish only to express, in my plain, blunt way, the conviction that the most elegant and varied accomplishments are a very poor equivalent forpoverty of the head and heart, in the woman who is to become the friend and counsellor to whom you will look for enduring, discriminating affection and sympathy, as well when the trials, the cares, and the sorrows of mortal existence shall lower heavily over you, as while you mutually dance along amid the flowers and the sunshine of youth.
A career of fashionable idleness, irresponsibility, and dissipation, is not a desirable prelude to the systematic routine of quiet duties essential to the home-happiness of a man of moderate resources andretired habits. It may be questioned whether a woman who has been long accustomed to the adulation and the excitement of a crowd, will be content to find enjoyment, sufficient and enduring, in the simple pleasures which alone will be at her command, thus circumstanced.
But, while even the incentives afforded by all the affection of which such an ephemeral being is capable, will render conformity to this new position difficult of attainment, she who is early accustomed to look thoughtfully upon life as beautiful and bright indeed, but as involving serious responsibilities and solemn obligations, will bring to a union with one of similar perceptions and principles, a sense of right and duty, which, if strengthened by a commingling of hearts, will make it no discouraging task to her tobegin with her husband where he begins. Such an one will be content to tread on at an even pace beside him, through the roughness that may beset his progress, cheerfully encountering obstacles, resolute to conquer or endure, as the case may be; and ever fully imbued with that patient, hopeful, loving spirit, whose motto is "bear one another's burdens."
You will think it more consistent with the caution of an old man, than the ardor natural to a young one, that I should advise you to pay proper respect to the claims of the relations or guardians of any lady to whom you wish to pay your addresses. I will, nevertheless, venture to assert that, for many reasons, you will, in after life, have reason to congratulateyourself upon pursuing a manly, open, honorable course in relation to every feature of this important era in your career.
A friendship with a woman considerably older than himself (if she be married, it will be all the better) and especially if he have not older sisters, or is separated from them, is of incalculable advantage to a young man, when based upon true principles of thought and action,—not only in relation to subjects especially pertaining to affairs of the heart, but respecting a thousand nameless practical matters, as well as of mental culture, taste, sentiment, and conventional proprieties. Such a female friend—matured by the advantages of nature and circumstances—will secure you present enjoyment of an elevated character, together with constant benefit and improvement, and expect from you, in return for the great good she renders you, only those graceful courtesies and attentions which a man of true good-breeding always regards as equally obligatory and agreeable.
Let there be, however, a certaingravitymingled with the manifestations of regard you exhibit towards all married women, the dominance ofrespectin your manner towards them, and never permit any consideration to induce you to forget the established right of every husband to sanction or not, at his pleasure, the most abstractly unexceptionable friendship between his wife and another man.
Every man with a nice sense of honor, will indicate, by his prevailing bearing and language towardswomen afeltdistinction between the intentions of friendship, and those of a suitor or lover. And while he observes towards all women, and under all circumstances, the respectful courtesy due to them, he will not hesitate to make his purpose intelligible,where he has conceived sufficient esteem to engender matrimonial intentions. Proper self-respect, as well as the consideration due to a lady and her friends, demands this.
I repeat, that no degree of devotion to one, excuses incivility to other female acquaintances in society; and I will add that the most acceptable attentions to a woman of sense and delicacy, are not those that render her generally conspicuous, but such as express an ever-present remembrance of her comfort and a quick discernment of her real feelings and wishes.
So in the matter of presents, and similar expressions of politeness, good taste will dictate no lavish expenditure, unwarranted by pecuniary resources, and inconsistent with the general surroundings of either party, but rather a prevailing harmony that will be really a juster tribute to the object of your regard, as well as a more creditable proof of your own tact and judgment. All compliments, whether thus expressed, or by word of mouth, should be characterized by delicate discrimination and punctilious respect. It is said that women judge of character by details: certain it is that what may seem trifles to us, often sensibly influence their opinions of men. Their perceptions are so keen,their sensibilities so acute, in comparison with ours, that we would err materially in estimating them by the same gauge we apply to each other, and thus the mysteries of the female heart will always remain in a degree insoluble, even to the acutest masculine penetration.
But though the nicest shades of sentiment and feeling may escape our coarser perceptions, we need no unusual discernment to perceive the effects of kindness, gentleness, and forbearance in our domestic relations. "I cannot much esteem the man," Rowland Hill remarked, "whose wife, children, and servants, and even the cat and dog, are not sensibly happier for his presence." Depend upon it, no fabled Genii could confer on you a talisman so effective as the power bestowed by the enshrinement in your heart of theLaw of Kindness. In proportion to the delicacy of woman's organization is her susceptibility to such influence, and he who carelessly outrages the exquisite sensibilities that make the peculiar charm of her nature, will too often learn, when the lesson brings with it only the bitterness of experience,
——"how light a causeMay move dissension between hearts that love."
——"how light a causeMay move dissension between hearts that love."
Shun, then, as you would the introduction into your physical system of an insidious but irradicable poison,
"The first slight swerving of the heart,That words are powerless to express!"
"The first slight swerving of the heart,That words are powerless to express!"
But while you seek to illustrate your constantremembrance that you have, by the act of marriage, "bound yourself to be good-humored, affable, discreet, forgiving, patient, and joyful, with respect to frailties and imperfections to the end of life," bear in mind, also, that your influence over another imposes duties of various kinds upon you, and that you should use that influence with far-sighted wisdom, to produce the greatest ultimate good. Thus you will be convinced that it is the truest kindness to minister to theintellectand theaffectionsof woman, rather than to her vanity, and that in proportion as you assist her to exalt herhigher natureinto dominance, will you be rewarded by a spirit-union commensurate to the most exalted necessities of your own.
I have known men, in my time, who seemed to have a fixed belief that all manifestations of the gentler instincts of humanity are unworthy of the dignity of manhood, and who, by habitually repressing all exhibitions of natural emotion, had apparently succeeded in steeling their hearts, as well against all softening external impressions as to the inspiration of the "still, sad music of" their better selves. All elevated emotions, whether of an affectionate or religious character, are too sacred for general observance: "When thou prayest, enter into thy closet andshut the door," was the direction of our great Teacher, and so with thereligion of the heart(if you will permit me the phrase), it would be desecrated, were it possible—which from its very nature it is not—to parade its outward tokens to indifferent eyes. And yet I return to a priorstand-point and insist that there is a middle-ground, even here, thejuste milieu, as the French say.—Apropos—the ancient Romans used the same word to designatefamily affectionandpiety.
Intimately connected with the happiness of domestic life is the due consideration ofpecuniary affairs.
But, before we proceed to their discussion, let me, as long a somewhat scrutinizing observer of the varying phases of social life, in our own country especially, enter my earnest protest against the practice so commonly adopted by newly-married persons, ofboarding, in place of at once establishing for themselves the distinctive and ennobling prerogatives ofhome. Language and time would alike fail me in an endeavor to set forth the manifold evils inevitably growing out of this fashionable system. Take the advice of an old man, who has tested theories by prolonged experience, and at once establish yourPenateswithin four walls, and under a roof that will, at times, exclude all who are not properly denizens of your household, upon assuming the rights and obligations of married life. Do not be deterred from this step by the conviction that you cannot shrine your home-deities upon pedestals of marble.Cover their bases with flowers—God's free gift to all—and the plainest support will suffice for them, if it be butfirm.
With right views of the true aims and enjoyments of life, it will be no impossible achievement to establish your household appointments within the limits of your income, whatever that may be, and to entertain the conviction that the duty of providing forpossible, if not probable, future contingencies, is imperative with those who have assumed conjugal and paternal responsibilities.
Firm adherence to such a system of living will bring with it a thousand collateral pleasures and privileges, and secure the only true independence. Nothing is more unworthy than the sacrifice of genuine hospitality, taste, and refinement, to the requisitions of mere fashion, in such arrangements; no thraldom so degrading as that imposed by the union of poverty and false pride. What latent egotism, too, in the pre-supposed idea that the world at large takes careful cognizance of the individualizing specialities of any man, save when he trenches on the reserved rights of others.
True self-respect, then, as well as enlarged perceptions of real life, will dictate a judicious adjustment of means to desired results, and teach the willing adoption of safe moderation in all.
Happily,comfortandrefinementmay be secured without ruinous expenditure, even by the most modest beginners in housekeeping. Industry, ingenuity and taste, will lend embellishment to the simplest home, and the young, at least, can well afford to dispense with enervating luxury and pretentious display.
With due deference to individual taste, I would commend the cultivation and gratification of alove of books and works of art, in preference to the purchase of costly furniture, mirrors, and the like. Fine prints (which are preferable to indifferent paintings) are now within obtainable reach, by many whopermit themselves few indulgences, comparatively, and everything having a tendency to foster the æsthetical perceptions and enjoyments of children, and to exalt these gratifications into habitual supremacy over the grosser pleasures of sense, or the exhibitions of vanity, is worthy of regard. And as no avoidable demands of the outer life should be permitted to diminish the resources of either the heart or the mind, well-selectedbookswill take high rank among the belongings of a well-appointed house.
To sum up all, my dear friends, if you aim at rational happiness, let there be what is artistically termedkeepingin your whole system of life. Let your style of dress, your mode of housekeeping, and entertaining, your relaxations, amusements, occupations, and resources, be harmoniously combined.
"Where and how is the most charming of Jewesses?" I asked one morning of an old friend, upon whom I had been making an unreasonably early call, rising to go.
"Here, sir, and very well," responded a cheerful voice from an adjoining room. "Will you not come in a moment?"
The smiling "home-mother" opened wide the half-open door through which my queries had been answered, and seconded her daughter's invitation.
There sat my fair young friend, with a small table before her, covered with sewing materials, and a huge overcoat upon her lap. She was in a simple,neat morning-dress, and plying the needle with great industry. She apologized for not rising to receive me, but not for continuing her occupation after I seated myself.
"As busily engaged as ever, I see," said I.
"Rather more so than usual, just now. Fred has come home in a very dilapidated condition."
"And you are repairing him. But what are you doing with that huge, bearish-looking coat? It's as much as you can do to lift it, I should judge."
"Oh, I've been putting in new front-facings and sleeve-linings, and fixing it up a little," returned she. "But, Colonel, do tell me, have you read Macaulay's second volume?"
I replied that I had dipped into it, and added: "But, before we discuss Macaulay, I want you to tell me how you learned to be so accomplished a tailoress?"
"Rebecca can do anything she wishes," said her mother, in a soft, gentle voice, "the heart is a good teacher."
"Thank you, mother," rejoined the sweet girl, "Colonel Lunettes will make allowance for your natural partiality."
"I would, were it necessary, my dear," I answered, "but I can decide for myself in your case."
A bow, a blush, and a pleasant laugh responded, and, rising, she deposited the heavy garment she had been repairing, upon the arm of a chair, and immediately reseating herself, placed a large basket full of woollen stockings, at her side, threaded a stout alderman-like-looking darning needle with thickyarn, and began to mend a formidable hole in one of the socks. Her brother is an engineer, and I divined at a glance, that those strong, warm things were, like the blanket-coat, part of his outfit for a campaign in the swamps.
"I am delighted with Macaulay's elaborate sketches of individuals," resumed the busy seamstress, drawing out her long needle and thread, and returning it with the speed and accuracy of nicely-adjusted machinery; "do you recollect his portraiture of theTrimmer?"
"It is very fine," I answered, like everything else Macaulay has written. "Nothing, however, has impressed me more, thus far, in his history, than his description of the condition of the clergy of the Established Church, in the rural districts, during the reign of James, and later even."
"I, too, was exceedingly interested in it," replied Rebecca. "And the more, that I was reminded of the fate of thedaughtersof English country curates, even at this day; of 'gentle blude,' many times, born and educated ladies, they are subjected, frequently, through life, to toil and suffering that would excuse their envying the fate of a mere kitchen-drudge!"
"They are, usually, governesses for life, and never marry," continued I.
"Never marry—though they are so educated and disciplined, as to be peculiarly well-fitted for the fulfillment of woman's dearest and highest destiny! Thank God! I was born where such social thraldom, such hateful monstrosities, are not!" And the facethat turned its glance upward, for an instant, with those last fervent words, was overspread with a glow bright as the crimson hue of sunset.
But, though my friend Rebecca, was the last woman in the world to
"Die of a rose, in aromatic pain,"
she was a perfect Sybarite, in some respects, as I will convince you.
Entering her mother's tasteful, pretty drawing-room, a few evenings after this conversation, I found the charming "Jewess," as I sometimes called her, in allusion to Scott's celebrated heroine, reading by the light of an astral lamp. She was elegantly, and, I suppose fashionably, dressed, and reclining in a large, luxurious-looking, stuffed chair, with her daintily-slippered feet, half buried in a soft crimson cushion. In short, she was the very impersonation of the "unbought grace" of one of Nature's queens. Had I been younger, by some fifty years, I should have been tempted, beyond a doubt, to do oriental homage to so much loveliness.
"By the way, Rebecca," said I, after a few minutes' chat with my hostess, "I must tell you of a witticism you elicited, this morning, from one of your admirers!"
"One of my admirers! Who, pray?"
"Guess! Well, I won't tantalize you!—Howard Parker!"
"You tell me something, Colonel! I am not entitled to enter Mr. Parker on my list offriends."
"What, what! that to me, my dear? I have a great mind to punish you, by not telling you what he said."
"As you please, Colonel Lunettes!" with a coquettish toss of her long ringlets.
"Please, tellme, Colonel!" interposed her mother, smilingly; "don't mind Rebecca's nonsense—tell me!"
"In a whisper?" I inquired, laughing, andglancing at the "Jewess." "I hardly dare to venture that! Well! meeting Howard, who is a great favorite of mine, in the street, this morning, he told me he was coming here, to call. 'Steel your heart, then,' said I—'Orshe will steal it!' he answered, as quick as thought."
"Quite ajeu d'esprit!" exclaimed Rebecca, laughing gaily. "But, Colonel, Mr. Parker may be witty, accomplished, and intellectual, but he isnot a gentleman!"
"My daughter, you are severe," said her mother, deprecatingly.
"I don't mean to be, mother; but"—
"From what do you draw such a sweeping inference, my child?" I inquired.
"Fromtrifles, dear sir, I admit; but
——'trifles make the sum of human things!'
and slight peculiarities often indicate character. For instance, Mr. Parker keeps his hat on, when he is talking to ladies, and neglects his teeth and hair—you needn't laugh, mamma! Yesterday morning, he joined me in the street, and came home with me,or, nearly home; for he stopped short, a little way from the house, let me cross a great mud-puddle, as well as I could, alone, and open the gate for myself, though I had my hands full of things. It's true, he had the grace to color a little, when I said, significantly, as he bade me good morning, that I was glad I had crossed the Slough of Despond, without accident."
"That showed that a sensible woman could correct his faults," I remarked.
"I don't know about that," replied my hostess. "Such things, as Rebecca says,indicate character; and I would not advise any young lady to marry a man, with the expectation of reforming him."
"Not of a cardinal vice, certainly," said I; "but there are"—
Here a servant interrupted me with—"Mr. Parker's compliments, Miss," and offered my fastidious young friend a large parcel, wrapped in a wet, soiled newspaper, and tied with dirty red tape.
"Ugh!" exclaimed the Sybarite, recoiling, with unrepressed disgust. "What is it, Betty? It can't be for me!"
"Itis, Miss, an' no mistake—the boy said it got wet in the rain, widout, as he was bringing it, an' no umberrellar wid him."
"Will you just take it into the hall, and take off the paper, Biddy? Be careful not to let it get dirty and wet, inside, will you?"—With studiednonchalance.
Presently Biddy laid down a large, handsomely- bound volume, and a note, before the younglady.
"It is a copy of Macaulay's 'Lays of Ancient Rome,'" said she, skimming over the note. "Mr. Parker was alluding to some passage in one of the poems, this morning. He says I will find it marked and begs me to accept the book, as a philopœna—oh, here are the lines—I thought them very fine as he recited them. Shall I read them, mamma? And you, sir, will you hear them?"