IX.Conditions of True Marriage.
But one divine cement. “Marrying to increase Love.” Must be Free. Advice of Parents. A rare example. Good Disposition. Good Temper. Charity on Religious Opinions. Intelligence. Refined Taste. Good Health. Energy of Character. Similarity of Fortune; of Age. Early Marriages. View of them in Italy. Recommended by Dr. Franklin. Objections. Lady Blessington.
Before forming any connection in life, we should consider well its objects, and the means by which they promise to be accomplished, and then ask ourselves if these be placed within our particular reach. Now what is marriage?The union of two individual souls in one.This is its essence, that without which, it loses all claim to the sacred name it bears. But what will secure a union of souls between husband and wife?
There is but one divine cement, Love. No substitute can atone for its absence; no talisman can produce consequences that belong only to this holy principle.
Many joys are inherent in a true marriage. It has sympathies, the most intimate of which mortals are capable, and it calls forth affections, such aspertain to no other voluntary relation of life. But these sentiments are the fruits of love alone. Disgust and aversion cannot produce them, nor are they the growth of indifference. If there be not a peculiar interest in the society of another, and a pain in his absence, no foundation is yet laid for a genuine marriage between him and yourself.
Again, there are evils incident to this life, which lose much of their bitterness, when shared with another. There is a sorrow of spirit, which none but a near friend can soothe. Peculiar trials belong also to the marriage condition. How can these evils and trials be mitigated to the wife, or the husband? Only by the power of love. If you dislike your companion, you cannot minister cordially to his griefs, nor will he participate in yours. Marriage is an arch; if love be its keystone, it will stand firmly; it will grow stronger with time. That wanting, it will crumble in a day. Never should this relation be formed, except with such sentiments as give reasonable hope of an ever-growing love.
Our natural emotions, on witnessing a marriage without apparent affection, are painful. If a lady be compelled so to marry, we pity her doom; if she do it voluntarily, we cannot but feel a disgust at the connection. Yet how often, could we unveilhuman hearts, should we see at the altar, nothing deeper than stratagem, expediency, fancy, or at best, friendship, as the chief attractive cause. Is it right to complain ourselves, or should we wonder, at the spectacle of miserable matches in others, if the temple of marriage rest thus on wood, hay and stubble, instead of having gold, silver, and precious stones at its base?
“Marrying to increase love,” says a writer, “is like gaming to get rich. You are liable, in the hazard, to lose all you carry to the game.” They, who join hands, with cold hearts, often cease even to respect one another. They become, in truth, like the pith-ball, in its approach to the electrified cylinder, the more fiercely repelled, the nearer the contact. If you do not love the individual you wed, above all his sex; if nothing more than fancy and friendship draw you toward him, then your marriage will be indeed a “lottery,” and yours may be a blank. Let there be genuine love, and if alienation afterward occur, it may be overcome by time and circumstances. Enter this condition in coldness, and strange will be the exception, if that chill ever be exchanged for a glow.
A true marriage must be Free, contracted by the preference and choice of the parties. If it be done by constraint, or against the will of either, it comes short of an union, and is a mere bargainand sale. An offer may be accepted, simply to gratify a parent or a friend, when the taste of the lady would have prompted a rejection. The case of Madeline Bray, in Nickleby, is precisely of this character. She pledged herself a victim to one whom she did not love, and could not but secretly despise, and had the marriage been actually consummated, it would have hardly been a more incongruous, forced, and unnatural connection, than many which occur in real life. To marryonlyto please a third person, even though it be a father, or mother, is never a duty, and can be the result only of a misled judgment, or a mistaken kind of filial piety.
Yet I by no means recommend the disregard of parental advice, in this sacred transaction. Perhaps the dangers of this age lie chiefly in that direction. There is often a false independence in this matter, an idea that a certain individual must be a lady’s companion for life. She may believe that “the match was made in Heaven,” and that it is a sin, in parents and friends, to oppose it. Or, she may determine that, let what will be the consequences, she will accept the overtures of the gentleman before her. The tendencies of the times induce many parents to keep silent, and take no part, and give no advice, when their daughters receive proposals for marriage.It is thought that, let them advise as they may, their children are resolved to do just as they please, and, to preserve peace, they forbear to interfere in the least.
This state of things cannot be too deeply deplored. When a young woman has an offer of addresses, it presents a solemn occasion, one which demands of her great deliberation, thoughtfulness and discretion. The instances are rare, in which an immediate decision can with propriety be effected. Counsel and assistance are never more needed, than in this important exigency. And to whom should one go, in preference to those who best understand her character, and what traits are needed in another to render her happy, and useful to him; and who feel also the deepest interest in her welfare? The daughter should seek advice from this quarter, and the parent ought promptly to give it.
In the other extreme, where parental partiality would coerce the feelings of a child, and impel her to a step she would fain avoid, then let the daughter mildly, but firmly, maintain her own purpose. I saw recently an account of a couple who were married nearly three years since, but owing to the opposition of friends, they lived separately, and kept their secret, until circumstances permitted a disclosure. Here must have beengenuine affection, a true union of souls. “Stolen waters are sweet,” and none seem more so, than the draughts of a clandestine marriage. Much as I deprecate the result of such elopements, I would rather a young lady should be even guilty of this imprudence, if she sincerely love her companion, than that she marry one she does not love, nor can hope ever to love, for the sake of gratifying any individual in the world. Let advice be sought, and let it be weighed and well heeded; but let it operate only on a free mind, and induce only to a more serious, and dispassionate consideration, for yourself, of the reply you shall give.
A good Disposition, if essential in the wife, is no less so in the husband. No young lady would marry one she believed destitute of this quality. Every instance, in which it is ultimately found to be wanting, is the result of a deception, either culpably disregarded by the lady, or so artfully conducted, during the days of “courtship,” as to be then wholly unperceived. But of what value are all other recommendations, talent, beauty, wealth, family, without an amiable spirit, and kind feelings? She, who allows herself to hazard any thing on this point, is little less than insane. If her partner prove morose, sullen, selfish, it will blight forever the joys of their marriage day.Better had she been bound to the dead, as certain offenders of her sex were said to be of old, than bound to a living mass of pollution, to one whose principles become more and more her horror, as they are daily betrayed.
Next to the disposition, I regard a good Temper as essential to domestic happiness. If nature have bestowed sparingly of this gift, and there be evidence of inward passion, unless there be also unceasing efforts at self-control, commit not your destiny to the individual. When the restraints of unfamiliar acquaintance are at length thrown off, what can you anticipate, but captiousness, and peevishness, if not actual violence? “Where surfaces,” says one, “are contiguous, every little prominence is mutually felt.” How fearful that minds subject to unrestrained anger, should be brought in so near collision, as may be produced by marriage.
You will desire proofs of sensibility. This is often accompanied by excitable passions; but not uniformly, not of necessity. No one could be prone naturally to greater strength of passion than Washington seems to have been, yet how admirably did he control his anger. The beau ideal of a desirable companion combines quick feelings, with a serene, self-possessed temper. Spare no efforts in ascertaining how near theindividual who addresses you approaches this ideal. An utter failure, should present, in your view, an insuperable obstacle to a connection with him for life.
Another condition of happy marriage, is an union of spirit on the great subject of Religion. It is desirable that the husband and wife belong to the same Christian denomination; and that the family they constitute worship in one church. Still, the circumstance of their adherence to different sects should not alone prevent their connection. They should hope to unite in their views on the main doctrines of religion; but even this is not indispensable to a true marriage. One thing, however, is so; and that is, that they each possessthe spirit of Charity.
There must be sympathy, as respects the value and necessity of personal piety. It is not their belief alone, which can produce this; nor will a diversity of opinion prevent it, where the spirit of Christ exists mutually between them. We are told that, where husband and wife enter into a cordial union, there often becomes a growing personal resemblance of one to the other. Like views, tastes, feelings and interests, generate a similar expression of countenance. This blessed token of genuine affection, will often be manifested, where there is found a spiritual sympathy. Letthis holy temper be deemed essential, and you shall
“Learn, by a mortal yearning, to ascend
Towards a higher object.—Love was given,
Encouraged, sanctioned, chiefly for that end.”
I have in mind, an instance, where there seems great unity of spirit between two, whose religious opinions are supposed to be diametrically opposite. Who can tell but, by her singular charity, the wife is there sanctifying her husband, when had she exhibited toward him a bigoted and repulsive disposition, she might have driven him even to blank infidelity?
Let there be a full and frank expression of opinion on points of faith and conscience, before marriage, as well as after. Occasion is sometimes given for the complaint that the true feelings and intentions on this subject were concealed, during the engagement of the parties; or, that more charity was expressed then, than afterward. This, of all prospects, is most assuredly fatal to the hope of a happy marriage. Whatever difference may exist, as to preferences of doctrine, or places of worship, let them be explicitly communicated, before marriage. Then will it never be said, “This I did not expect. It was not so, during our engagement.”
The young woman may justly require that herfuture companion be a man of Intelligence. “Mental attractions alone can gain a lasting empire. Where these are wanting, as the object loses its novelty, and becomes common, its beauties fade away, and the imagination, and the eyes which complacently and admiringly, rested upon them, begin to wander.—Love, if it ever existed, rapidly abates; one or both regret precipitation;—glaring defects stand out in bold relief, in place of the perfections which the imagination had painted.” She, who does not regard another as at least her equal in talent and education, can hardly entertain for him that respect, which is the basis of all true love. Not only should there be a moral and religious, but also an intellectual, sympathy between husband and wife. Else, how can they enjoy the society and conversation of each other, in those numberless hours, when they are sole companions? What a burden to a lady of cultivated mind, must be the society of one, who takes no pleasure in a book, and can appreciate only the gossip of the day, or outward gratifications.
The mortification too, of being linked to stupidity, or ignorance, for life, of feeling always anxious, when in company, lest your companion utter the follies he does at your fireside, must be insupportable. If you have a husband, whom youcannot trust as a man of common sense at least, woe is your lot.
Nor is it unreasonable to require in your partner, refined Taste, and delicate feelings. There may be valuable traits, and still this be wanting. A friend of mine married an individual, whom she respected for his talents, and Christian character. But he was still destitute of acute perceptions and deep sensibility. There was a coarseness in his nature, which made him blind to her feelings, and a vulgarity of habit and speech, which to her was completely disgusting. He did not intend any harm, but was still always offending her taste; and this simple circumstance embittered her whole happiness, and hastened her, I believe, out of this world. Opinions may differ; the grave may marry the gay, and the silent, the loquacious; the irritable may seek the calm; the bold, the modest; and the impassioned, the gentle. This occurs, indeed, according to the analogy of the physical world, where attraction takes place between different bodies, as between the opposite poles of magnets, &c. But it is not so in matters of taste, certainly not, so far as refinement and coarseness are concerned.
Good Health is a point of no ordinary moment. It is needful for the discharge of our duties; and she can hardly be justified, who allies herself toone evidently incapable, for his physical debility, of sustaining a family. A person afflicted by an incurable disease, especially if hereditary, cannot reasonably expect a young lady to sacrifice herself upon him. There are other offices, beside that of the nurse, demanded of a wife, and the cases should be rare, in which all other considerations are merged in this.
But there may be health, and still a deficiency in Energy of Character. With this trait as the foundation, you may anticipate a fair superstructure; but if this be wanting, you ought not, and cannot, look for anything but poverty, and wretchedness, throughout your connection. A worldly-minded man, will be far from an interesting companion; yet, in the issue, it is better to trust yourself with the slave of business, than with a palpable drone.
Similarity of Fortune is to be desired in those who contemplate marriage. There need not be, it is true, entire equality in this respect; yet a great disparity of circumstances is often the source of melancholy evils. The individuals thus joined, will probably differ in their habits, and in their views of economy, of dress, and style of living. One shall appear mean, and the other extravagant. She, who is raised suddenly from poverty to affluence, must possess rare humility, to escape undueelation and pride. While to one accustomed to opulence, there will seem a degradation in the condition of a destitute husband. These evils will spring up also in the character and feelings of the husband, where the wife has lived in circumstances entirely unlike his own. Instances there are, and will be, in which such consequences will not follow; but the tendencies are strongly in this direction.
The Ages of those joined in marriage, should be somewhat near each other. How else can there be true sympathy between them? One shall charge the other with levity, and that allegation be retorted by the charges of moroseness, and insensibility to enjoyment. It is well, perhaps, that there be that difference of age, which nature indicates in the sexes. It is not of two, or four, years we speak. The great poet of humanity writes, and perhaps wisely,—if these be the limits,—thus:
“Let still the woman take
An elder than herself; so wears she to him,
So sways she level in her husband’s heart.”
Much has been said in relation to the expediency of Early Marriages. In Italy, early marriages are regarded as so important, that in many churches and fraternities, there are annual funds established, to raise portions, and procure comfortable matches for young maidens who are destitute.In their favor, is the circumstance that the habits are then less established, and the parties may more easily conform to one another, than afterward. Nor is prejudice then so strong, nor opinion so inflexible, as in later manhood. The husband and wife can hence educate one another better, than if their marriage had occurred late in life. It was for these, and for prudential reasons, that Dr. Franklin recommended early marriages.
On the other hand, it cannot be questioned, that young ladies are often engaged, and sometimes married too early, before their school education is completed, or their judgment matured. The mother is, perhaps, anxious to marry her daughters “off her hands,” and, moved by a miserable ambition, she and they, lest she be later in her engagement than some companion, consent to her being sacrificed on the first offer, be it what it may. Hence come those fatal alliances, in which “a six month’s acquaintance after marriage, transforms the beau ideal into a fool, or a coxcomb; and the happy couple, to use an expression of Lady Blessington’s, have to ‘pay for a month of honey, with a life of vinegar.’” Circumstances should affect a predetermination on this point, yet where they are balanced, she is the wiser, who postpones a matrimonial connection, until her age, and her preparation for it, indicate its propriety.
X.The Society of Young Men.
Importance of right views on this point. We cannot banish all thoughts of love. The opposite extreme. Regard not every one as a lover. Two errors in the society of gentlemen. Forwardness. The poet’s caution. Undue reserve. The happy medium attainable. Should know a variety of gentlemen. The acquaintances of Brothers.
No period of life is more decisive of a female’s character, than that at which she enters the society of the opposite sex, as a woman. Her manners and conversation at that time usually do much to determine her condition for life. The IDEAL which she carries with her into the world, becomes the presiding star of her destiny. On her general estimate of man, and the views she entertains of his sex, every thing now depends. If she can penetrate character, and has resolution to form high purposes, blessed is her lot.
First, then, I cannot join with those who advise a young lady to banish entirely from her mind every thought of love, until she receives overtures for particular attention. Providence designed her for the exercise of her affections; why then seekwholly to suppress them, or to expend no thought whatever upon them? “Nature,” says a recent writer, “will assert her rights over the beings she has made: she avenges all attempts to force or shackle her operations. We ought long ago to have been convinced that the only power allowed to us, is the power of direction.” Yet “to girls have been denied the very thoughts of love,—even in its noblest and purest form.”—They “know nothing at all of it, or nothing but what they have clandestinely gathered from corrupt sources.” Is not this evidently doing violence to one of the strongest, and I will add, the holiest, impulses of their nature? If it be true, as some affirm, that the marriage service is the first part of the Liturgy perused by a young lady, I do not regard it as matter for surprise, derision, or censure. She, who forces her mind wholly off this subject, will be ill qualified, when the occasion demands it, to listen to proposals of marriage. Ignorance and blindness can do little to give her that sound judgment, and true discrimination, which alone should dictate her reply. No, let this rather be done. Let her teachers and parents speak frankly on this topic, treat it as a serious concern, and aid her to form in her mind, a model of moral and intellectual excellence, such as would render one a desirable companion, and yet let thismodel be not a creature of romance, but of real life. Is it not better thus to guide the affections and regulate the views on this subject, than to stifle all feeling, and blindfold the mind to love? In what province should reason be exercised, if not in that, which affects our condition through life, for weal, or for woe?
But, while encouraged to give suitable thought to this subject, let not a young lady become totally absorbed in it. Let her not look only on a gentleman to canvass his merits as a lover, and a husband. The sexes should associate for other and nobler objects; for social enjoyment, for intellectual improvement, and for mutual aid, as moral and religious beings. She who overlooks these precious advantages of general society, sacrifices an invaluable means of education, no less than one of rational gratification.
Still less should one allow herself to imagine every gentleman in love with her. This sometimes occurs in consequence of an ignorance of the world; sometimes from the illusion of very strong affections; and again, from the unworthy practice of certain young men, who delight in exciting and trifling with the feelings of the opposite sex. Let the cause be what it may, nothing more exposes a lady to ridicule. Such extreme and manifest sensitiveness provokes the trifler to fresh follies. The sensible are disgusted by it; and she, whothus indulges her imagination, is sowing the wind, and will reap the whirlwind. Sorrow, regret, and disappointment await her.
In regard to “behavior to gentlemen,” I do not think set rules and forms are needful. Where the heart is duly controlled, and the understanding cultivated, and fancy a servant not mistress of the soul, the deportment will be spontaneously right, and commendable. Then all may safely be trusted to nature. The manners will be the expression of gentleness, mingled with firmness.
Two errors, however, are so prevalent in some circles, as to demand a passing notice. One is that of the Forward and presuming. No lady can make advances of a character bold and obvious to a gentleman, and still retain a good name in society. Modesty is the only current coin of her sex; nothing can atone for its absence. A self-possessed, yet retiring manner, is at once the index, and the charm, of female worth. It may be needless to speak of the confirmed coquette. She, like the coxcomb, may expect no mercy from others. There are few, to whom the caution of the poet is necessary,
“She can both false and friendly be.
* * * * * * * *
She gives a side glance and looks down,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not;
She is fooling thee.”
Examples of this character, I believe, are comparatively rare, despite his opinion, who said that “at sixteen, woman is a coquette,par instinct.” Still, it is too true, that “the whole system of female education tends more to instruct women to allure, than to repel;” although “as rationally might the military disciplinarian limit his tuition to the mode of assault, leaving his soldiery in entire ignorance of the tactics of defence.”
Opposed to this fault stands that of undue Reserve. Some young ladies are so trained as apparently to enshrine themselves from all approach, in the society of gentlemen. They are models of decorum, miracles of prudence, and drawn up, as if always anticipating a foe. They inwardly sneer at all sentiment, and deride those, who exhibit it, and pride themselves, above all things, in keeping every one completely at a distance.
I do not deny that a female has a right, and ought, to repel all improper liberties, and to shew those, who are unduly familiar, that she can assume, at fit times, a little dignity. But need one, in doing this, build round herself a wall of ice? Shall she, through fear of seeming fond and forward, put on an eternal frown? In avoiding French freedom, we often substitute an Anglo-American prudery. The slightest compliment isinterpreted as flattery, so that the remarker must do violence to his honest convictions, lest he offend an ever-suspicious, maidenly, pride.
The true medium between boldness and a chilling reserve may not be easily attained; yet it is worth years of effort, even to approximate this happy manner. There are women, who can invite to easy and pleasant conversation, and yet repel the most trivial impropriety in a gentleman. I could wish that our female writers, in their minute directions to the young of their sex, had recommended this desirable medium, instead of teaching them to regard themselves as always acting on the defensive. Can a lady never accept a present from a gentleman, without so doing it as to encourage his particular attentions? Does she, by consenting to walk, or ride with one, bind herself to him for life, or invite his addresses, as a suitor?
But let a young woman resolve, that, while she receives the ordinary marks of courtesy with readiness, she will not allow herself to infer that they signify every thing. If the remark of Lord Bacon be correct in general, that “women, when young, are the idols of men,” the reverse of it is not seldom true. A companion for the evening is invested with imaginary dispositions, and she, who ought to have exercised her judgment, and waitedfor decisive tokens of favor, is captivated without the least intention on the part of her fancied lover.
It is certainly desirable that a young lady be acquainted, and that somewhat particularly, with a variety of gentlemen. Thus only can she be qualified to discriminate between the undeserving, the indifferent, and the excellent. How else can you know the indications of those who undervalue your sex in general, the worthless, gay, and unprincipled, and guard against their influence? There are those, who delight in making sport of an inexperienced female. To understand the traits of such, you must sometime have met with them. But be sure you never place yourself in the power of an individual of this character, or of one, whose principles and designs you suspect. If you doubt the purity of any one who seeks your society frequently, consult a friend older or wiser than yourself; and abide by the judgment of disinterested observers.
There are instances, in which a young woman is brought into the society of the other sex, by her Brothers. This sometimes exposes one to mistake the civilities of friendship, for manifestations of love. Thus situated, you ought to take special heed against those romantic ideas, and premature inclinations, that spring from passion and fancy. Here as at all times, the advice of a judiciousbrother, before whom those of his own sex are accustomed completely to disclose their true character, should be sought and prized. Do not permit yourself to indulge a predilection for one, against whom, as a companion for life, so near a relative and friend has warned you.
XI.First Love.
What is love? The first, the only all-pervading. Petrarch and Laura. “Love-matches.” Self-oblivion indicates true love. Proofs of one’s being affected by this sentiment. Shakspeare’s description of a lover. Jealousy and Timidity indicate love. Overtures. Unrequited love. Rejection of Addresses.
I use the expression at the head of this chapter, because of the importance I attach, not only to the sentiment in general, but especially to its earliest developement. There are those, who sneer at the name of love. There are many, who laugh at its mention, if made in sober earnestness, and yet some of these, who thus speak in public, do, I believe, in the secrecy of their hearts, believe in, aye, reverence, it, as one of the most sacred impulses of our nature. Because we have witnessed, or read of, a silly sentimentalism, that affected its character, let us not straightway question the possibility of its existence in any one.
Nor would I encourage the little girl in musing over novels, or listening to talk on this subject, until she dreams herself in love. There is indeed little danger of this where friends have not madeit a theme for perpetual inuendos and jests, but spoken frankly, simply, and seriously of it, as a reality in human experience. She, who finds herself tending to foolish imaginings on this subject, has but to employ her mind constantly, and preserve her health in soundness, and the illusion will be dispelled.
But what is love? Shall we take the description of it given by the master poet of our nature, who tells us that
“Love with the motion of all elements,
Courses as swift as thought in every power;
And gives to every power a double power,
Above their functions and their offices”?
It may be thus mighty in its sway over some hearts; but not always are its courses so “swift.” The affections of some “tremble, like a leaf, at every breath of love; while others, like the ocean, are moved only by the breath of a storm.” Yet in all, its approach causes great changes in the character, and usually alters the entire complexion of life. Where the individual has enjoyed great mental culture, it brings in its train increased hazards; and in not a few hearts, its involutions are strangely complex, and its abysses of fearful depth.
I am one of those who believe, that in strict truth, the first love is the only real, all-pervading affection. There are other sentiments, on whichthe marriage relation may be founded with fair and reasonable hopes of an happy result. But no one can love two individuals, simultaneously or successively, with equal strength. There is a fervor, in the freshness of the heart’s first gift, that no second occasion can quicken. Petrarch could never have found another Laura. Though his was love at first sight, it endured until twenty-one years had terminated the life of its object. Our earliest manners, tones of voice, and expression of countenance, endure the longest. So does the stamp of love’s seal, when new, outshine every subsequent impression. Hence the importance of bestowing this primal treasure with wisdom. Where all of this life, and all of the future is at stake, wary should be our steps, and well pondered our decisions.
We hear much of “love-matches.” Weak transactions, but the foam of love’s great deep, are many of these matches. Still there is such a thing as marriage based on spontaneous love. It may occur at a chance meeting, not, I allow, to be consummated without the revision of calm judgment, but still the fruit of a moment’s impression. There is a kind of love, which is not natural, impulsive, and cordial, but the result of an unnatural predisposition, and an inflamed and diseased imagination. None the less is there an up-welling,genuine affection, that for the time, commands and absorbs woman’s entire being. It is possible, that what is treated here as a jest, and there, as a matter of skepticism, may exist in some true hearts, suddenly conceived, yet persevered in, and permanent.
Some marry for money, others for beauty, for intelligence, or rank, or family, or fancy; there are those who marry for love. We have known females, who venerated the object of their affection so completely, as to mourn sincerely their own unworthiness of, and regard themselves as a simple gift of God to so good a man. Where one sees this beautiful self-oblivion, can he be a true philosopher, and assign any cause for it, save the existence of genuine love? She, who unites to this passion a provident self-possession, who is as calm, as she is keenly susceptible, will enter the marriage relation with the happiest omens of joy, and ever-growing success, in every coming duty.
After these preliminary remarks, it will be expected that I should give a sketch of the tokens and proofs of one’s being under the influence of this sentiment. It occasions, on its approach, important changes in the feelings and character, such as no one experiences without being sensible of their occurrence, although, so close is theresemblance between love and the effects of a warm imagination, that one may fancy herself in love, when she really is not. It wakes emotions and sympathies never before awakened, and lying deep in our nature. No writer has described its signs and effects so minutely as Shakspeare. If we may believe him, it is not always marked by deliberation, and entire self-possession:
“If thou rememberest not the slightest folly
That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou hast not loved:
Or if thou hast not sat, as I do now,
Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress’ praise,
Thou hast not loved:
Or if thou hast not broke from company,
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
Thou hast not loved.”
Love makes the hours, when its object is absent, long and dreary. It renders even the contemplation of the preferred one more agreeable than the society of others. A prepossession for a particular individual usually makes one jealous of attentions bestowed by him on other persons. I once heard a gentleman remark, that it was this jealousy, which first convinced him that he was in love. You cannot open your lips to speak against him, who has impressed your heart. You will inwardly, although not probably in words, defend him from the attacks of others. To blush and falter under such circumstances would indicate love, much more surely than open professions.
Were the question put by yourself “Do I love this person?” the first reply,—that of timidity and doubt,—would be, “no.” Still for no consideration could you rest an hour in that conclusion. Unstaid in all motions else, there would be one fixed object,
“The constant image of the creature That is beloved.”
Should Overtures be made by a gentleman, it requires great delicacy to treat them aright. Are you decided in the determination to accept them, let your reply be prompt. It is ungenerous to trifle with the feelings of another, when in your power. Perhaps you need advice. Those entitled to your first regard, on this subject, are your parents. Reserve at this period causes many unhappy mistakes. A word of information, a hint from so true a friend as a mother, may confirm your undecided purpose, or lead you at once to abandon it. Let it not be your fault, if you do not enjoy the benefit of such valuable counsel. Suppose your parents object to the connection, when your heart is interested, and judgment approves your affection. There are examples of noble self-denial under these circumstances. Cases there are, too, in which health, peace of mind, and even life, have been the forfeit paid for compliance with such advice. I believe it right, where the opposition isevidently unreasonable, that a young lady should obey the promptings of her own heart. Gretna Green, if it have witnessed the union of some unprincipled fugitives from home, has seen others joined in a true and sacred bond. Is not such a resort better than to hang, or suffocate oneself, as is so often done in France by thwarted lovers? The instances that justify this procedure may be very rare, yet surely it is better to follow nature’s holiest law, than to drag out a lingering life of martyrdom, as thousands have done, to gratify what the world knew to be but a whim of an ambitious father, or a capricious mother. When conscience approves the step, let it be firmly taken. If the blessing of God can be invoked upon it, then is it right.
Another event may occur. The offering of the heart may prove Unrequited. She, who has poured forth the fulness of her affections, meets a chilling repulse. Perhaps it is instant; or there may be intimations of a favorable regard that shall fan, and keep alive, a hope. That hope is at length totally crushed. How is one to demean herself, under this severe trial? Let her cherish no resentment. This will but aggravate her sufferings and expose her to contempt. Neither should she dwell morbidly on her fate, and nurse in her bosom the seeds of consumption. Rather let thewhole energy of her soul be given to banish the occurrence from her thoughts, and let her seek relief from the Source of all solace.
The task of extinguishing our affection for an individual, voluntarily, is never an easy one. They, who are called by circumstances to this effort, should know that it can usually be effected only by a resolute purpose, and by a force of exertion which, to those of strong feelings, seems almost to rend the spirit in twain. Yet so it must be. As a lady has well remarked—“to a frank and ardent nature,” and such usually have this sex, “reasoning on love is a useless pastime;—it can be overcome only by an effort strong as the whirlwind, such as uproots the young and vigorous oak, in its bright leafing time. Woman’s warm nature must cast it far away at once, though death were in the parting.”
You may feel it a duty to reject the offers of a suitor. In this case, let your decision be communicated in such a manner as to spare the feelings of him, who cannot but be mortified, if not humbled, by your decision. How can she maintain a clear conscience, or even a sense of honor, who exposes a gentleman, under these circumstances, to the derision of the public? Let no one share the secret, beyond the precincts of your own family. Return all letters, and leave no evidence ofthe disappointment of your friend, where it may be discovered.
She, who conducts thus kindly and wisely, will retain still a respect for her suitor. If she lose his friendship, or alienate him entirely from her regard, it is sufficient proof that there was something wrong, either in the spirit, or the manner, of her refusal. Why should one sink in your estimation, for an event unexpected on his part, and for which he had seen nothing in your previous deportment, perhaps, to prepare him? Let your conduct be judicious, and then, should he address himself to another lady, she will not indeed have his first love, yet, unless greatly prejudiced by the fact of his previous rejection, she may accept his addresses, and be united to him, with the fair hope of a happy life.
XII.Conduct During Engagement.
Two aspects of the Future. Extravagant Anticipations. Calm, and rational ones. We should disclose our true and entire Character. The great error of the Betrothed. Disclosure of Faults. Esteem and Respect to be secured. Sacredness of our Plighted word. Implied engagement. Dismissing a Suitor. A noble example of constancy. Sad fate of Mrs. Hemans. Preparation for marriage. Duration of engagement. Testimony from Père Lachaise. Short engagements usually most desirable.
After mature deliberation, and in accordance with the sacred impulse of love, you are now, let us conceive, pledged to one, who anticipates a future consummation with you, of the dearest relation which man can form. What views ought you to take of your present situation? and how should you deport yourself in your intercourse with this near friend?
There are two aspects, under which the future may, from this point, be regarded. It may be to you a region of dreams, and extravagant Anticipations. The mind may easily be allowed so to dwell on its scenes, that imagination shall take the place of reality. Circumstances often warrantbut moderate expectations; yet amid the most arid waste you see, like the deceived traveller in the deserts of Zahara, the enchantingmirage, a beautiful lake of deep, refreshing, inexhaustible waters.
A moment’s reflection might teach such an one the delusiveness of these prospects. Let it be that your lover has every good quality you ascribe to him, that he is quite perfection; you must know, from the experience of other anticipated enjoyments, that the possession of an object tends naturally to moderate our feelings in regard to it. The heart, which beat feverish pulsations beneath the summer of expectation, becomes calm, when autumn’s tranquil days have arrived. There is a wide chasm between the illusions of sleep and all we can call
“The sober certainty of waking bliss.”
There is a joy, it is true, in the marriage bond greater even than we once anticipated. But it comes from an unlooked-for source. It is not that very thing we imagined; in that we are often disappointed. It consists in the shining forth of new and before undiscovered traits. But when were extravagant anticipations ever yet realized, and that too in the precise objects, on which they had fastened?
Another view a lady who is engaged may takeof coming life, is, that of the calm and Rational description. She may strive to see her lover in the true light; she may pray that her heart be not betrayed into false hopes, and resolve that she will never abandon her judgment, in so momentous a transaction. Such an one looks at the world as it is, a chequered scene; a place in which “one thing is set over against another;” a mart in which a just price must be paid for every article we obtain. This aspect of life may be less pleasing than its opposite. It may render what is termed “Courtship” something else beside a golden age; yet, in the end, who can doubt, it will prove a rich source of substantial happiness?
If it be desirable that a young woman see her lover in his genuine character, so is it that she disclose to him every feature of her own. Why should she wish to keep any thing concealed? What is the purpose of that period, which passes between the engagement of two individuals, and the consummation of their marriage? If it have any rational meaning, it must be to afford an opportunity for a thorough mutual acquaintance. The parties do not,—ostensibly, at least, this is the case,—they do not, pass hours and months in the society of one another, except the better to understand, and hence the more truly to sympathize with, each other.
Not, surely, does the suitor enter the presence of his friend, to exalt himself into an unnatural position. He is not striving to pass with her for some creature of romance, some hero, or god. No, the ostensible purpose of their interviews is, that he may exhibit himself to her more and more truly as he is, in heart, principle, character, and life. So is it designed, by these acts and conversations, that the lady should present her true phases before him. To suppose that she arrays her person, or frames her speech, with a view to concealing her real feelings, and thoughts, and dispositions, from him, is a mockery of the most sacred relation on earth.
One would imagine that nothing would give an individual such pain, in this situation, as the fear that her too partial admirer might conceive of her as a divinity, instead of a mere woman, inheriting the common frailties of our nature. Her chief solicitude would be, we should think, to guard against his forming too high expectations of her future character. Rather would she that he undervalue her merits, and so leave her room to rise in his estimation, than so heighten her charms, as to render the fruition of his hopes impossible.
Is this the usual tenor of feeling in the hearts of the betrothed? It would argue little practical knowledge of the world to contend that it is. Onthe contrary, there seems a systematic endeavor, on the part, too often, of both individuals, to disguise their real sentiments, cloak their sincere opinions, and throw a mist over their daily principles and habits. The gentleman usually exhibits only his Sunday exterior and manner, aiming studiously to veil his face, in the company of his affianced one. And instead of encouraging her to speak out her true thoughts, and show her ordinary disposition, he burns before her the incense of flattery, until she is constrained to force herself up to unnatural heights of goodness, in appearance and expression, lest her lover be compelled to lower his conception of his paragon, and at length see her, a poor, unadorned sharer of humanity, just as she is.
Who can wonder, amid this utter want of frankness, and these pasteboard forms, that the foundation is laid for sure disappointment and misery, when the masks are thrown off, and the two individuals stand, a mere man and a mere woman, before one another? Human ingenuity could not devise a system more completely adapted to entail sorrow and suffering on our race, than this.
It may be said that I exaggerate the case, that the parties do notmeanto deceive each other, but do really feel all that they now mutually express. In one sense this may be correct. The circumstances in which they are placed tend, I know, tofoster kind feelings, and create courteous manners; and to the manifestation of these, all that flow spontaneously at the moment, I do not object.
But is not more also expressed? Or rather,—for the error lies chiefly in restraint,—is not much suppressed, that ought, in all wisdom and ingenuousness, to be distinctly avowed? Suppose I have faults,—and who has not?—why should they be cautiously concealed from my nearest friend? I am, by nature, and indulgence also, peevish and ill-humored; ought I to seek to pass for all that is opposite to this? Contentiousness is a besetting sin of my character. Shall I strive to appear, always and only, one of the most yielding of my sex? My temper is violent, or sullen, why should this fact be kept from my lover, until some outbreak after our marriage day? Ought I not to speak decidedly, and unequivocally, of this my infirmity? I am addicted to occasional depression of spirits and gloom; by what right, or on what principle of religion, or expediency, shall I labor to keep up an unnatural cheerfulness? If I am extravagant, is it wise or just to be always sounding the praises of economy? Why profess a taste for reading, when I loathe the sight of a sober volume? Why force myself up to a pitch of neatness, when my wardrobe would, by a single glance, prove me a slattern?
It is hard, it seems cruel, to require these painful disclosures, to roll clouds over the sun of the matrimonial sky. But is not even this better than to suffer a dense mass to accumulate, which shall at length break in storm, and thunder, and desolation, upon the devoted pair? We are both weak and wicked, if we deliberately lay a train, that must at length explode, and cause decrepitude, if not matrimonial death, to one, who is about committing his entire happiness to our hands.
No marriage can be consummated, with a fair prospect of good, except between individuals, who have made it a point of principle to disclose to each other their entire characters. New scenes may develope new dispositions unfriendly to perfect harmony. But these can be met and successfully encountered, if there were no intentional deception, if there were an earnest desire and effort to show frankly every fault, that did really exist before marriage. Any efforts to engage the affections of another by false appearances will inevitably abate thus much from the future happiness of those who make, or are misled by, them. All that is termed “Courting,” so far as that word implies assumption, pretence, and flattery,—and it too often means nothing more,—should be sacredly avoided. Nature alone can lay the basis of an enduring superstructure; art, affectation,disguise, and concealment, are but a sure presage of bitter regrets.
The intercourse we describe would be pervaded by mutual Esteem and Respect. It would prevent the habit of trifling on the concerns of the affections, and render the conversation worthy of the holy relation now contemplated, and such as could be reviewed with satisfaction. From their taking just views of one another, there would be sincerity, confidence, and a rational, ever-growing, attachment, between the individuals thus situated. Their most private hours would be marked by perfect delicacy, modesty, and propriety, of deportment. In public, no occasion would be given for remarks on their silly and sentimental airs, while all would perceive evidence of a mutual and deep interest between them, and predict, as they ought, that their future connection would be auspicious of the happiest results.
Where a true understanding of each other’s characters, and an esteem, sustained by self-respect, exists, the communications, however conducted, whether by personal interviews, or by correspondence, will be of a rational description. The letters will not be crowded with nauseating compliments, with nonsense and vanity, but will contain good thoughts, no less than the expression of pure feeling, and generous sentiments. Therewill be nothing of insincerity, nor what would lead a stranger, who perused them, to say that they were mere folly and illusions.
A lady should feel bound, from the moment of her engagement, to be true to her plighted word. She is forbidden, by every dictate of Honor, from pursuing any course of conduct that will give pain to her friend. There is a steadiness of feeling and purpose, under these circumstances, which cannot be too highly commended. “What state could fall,” asks a recent writer, “what liberty decay, if the zeal of man’s noisy patriotism was as pure as the silent loyalty of woman’s love.” Erring,—all human as she is, to others,—God gifts her with a thousand virtues, to the one she loves; it is from that love, that she drinks her nobler nature;—it gives her the meekness of a dove, the devotion of a saint. In his danger, she has the sagacity of the serpent, and the courage of the lioness. Like the chivalrous knight, she who thus feels, will “avoid no foe, forsake no love.”
There are those who apparently enjoy the opposite of this course. They consent to receive marked attentions from others in company. A French author says he has known individuals among his countrywomen, “who unconsciously, actuated by a thirst for emotion, provoked very lively scenes with their lovers, solely to obtain for themselvesthe pleasure of tears, reproaches, and reconciliations.” This luxury is one, in which no lady of principle will indulge herself. Agreeable as an occasional conquest, or flirtation, might be to her, she will sacredly abstain from every act that tends in this direction. The sure possession of one true heart, one affianced protector, and unalterable friend, will suffice her desires.
Nor is it enough to refrain from encouraging the open attentions of others, the truly loyal one will not allow herself to cherish a secret feeling or preference toward any other. Her every affection will be true as steel to the magnet. She will know no wayward inclinations, nor give way to whims and fancies, and undefinable emotions, to feelings, which she would blush to betray to her lover.
This true-heartedness will operate not less where an engagement is implied and understood between the parties, than if a formal pledge had been given. It is what we conceive another to expect from us, and what we have encouraged him to expect, more than any set speeches and written promises, that binds the conscientious mind. Some, indeed, are never formally engaged, before the day of their marriage. The trust which such instances manifest, is a beautiful trait, and will be fostered by every pure heart.
But, it will be asked, if a lady is never to changeher mind in relation to a gentleman; if she must always love where her affections have been once placed, and have no power of breaking off an engagement. This I do not contend. There are, doubtless, cases, where one is not only permitted, but bound, to dismiss a suitor. If he have intentionally deceived her in respect to any circumstances, which he well knew would have prevented her consenting to an engagement, had they been disclosed, she ought, at once to refuse any further intimacy with him. Or, if his character change decidedly for the worse, during their acquaintance, if he become a disbeliever in religion, or a known profligate, let her immediately dismiss him.
If on the other hand, he be merely visited with misfortune, by adversities, to be traced clearly to the hand of Providence, then should she not, for a moment, cherish the desire to dissolve their engagement. A noble instance of moral principle, as well as true love, under a change of circumstances, occurred in England but a few years since.
Sir Robert Barclay, who commanded the British squadron in the battle of Lake Erie, was horribly mutilated by the wounds he received in that action, having lost his right arm and one of his legs. Previously to his leaving England, he was engaged to a young lady, to whom he was tenderly attached.Feeling acutely, on his return, that he was a mere wreck, he sent a friend to the lady, informing her of his mutilated condition, and generously offering to release her from her engagement. “Tell him,” replied the noble girl, “that I will joyfully marry him, if he has only enough of body left to hold his soul.” This is marrying for the gem, and not for the casket. It is true constancy.
I would not have a young woman insensible to any fault in her lover. Many persist in being blind to the least moral blemish in the loved. We are told that the lamented Mrs. Hemans was a victim to a passion of this nature. She was warned by her friends of the unsuitableness and dangers of her intended connection. Yet neither this admonition, nor a three years’ separation from her lover, could quench her affection for him. The soldier and hero of her glowing imagination had power to captivate, and then ruin, her noble spirit.
When a dismission becomes inevitable, let it be given with decision, yet kindly. Never should the event be made matter of public remark, nor should a letter or line of the former correspondence be rudely exposed. Let oblivion rest on the whole transaction. But so painful an issue should, if possible, be averted. For no freak of fancy, still less for the gibes and jests of others, should soimportant a connection be frustrated. The cause should be one that sober judgment will approve, to your latest day.
A most trying lot is hers, who is deserted by one, who had given a solemn pledge to be hers through life. It is no credit to steel one’s self against the sorrows of such a lot. There are those, who would well nigh offer their life to gain a lover, and yet could think of a faithless one only with emotions of indignation or anger. Such can possess but an apparent affection. I speak of that which is true and deep. When this is thus wounded, let the sufferer preserve a calm temper, if possible, a calm exterior always, and turn from human faithlessness to that Love which is a perennial fountain.
As regards the Preparation to be made for marriage, where it is contemplated with fair prospects of certainty, little need here be said. The whole previous life should be one act of preparation. The school-room should train the wife and the mother. Fidelity to home, to parents, brothers, sisters, and all the inmates of the paternal roof, is among the best qualifications for married life. If these duties have been hitherto neglected, be assured that the marriage ceremony will do little to supply the deficiency.
The Duration of an engagement should ordinarily be brief, at least, not needlessly protracted.We are told that no tomb in Père Lachaise is so often decorated with chaplets of fresh flowers as that of Abelard and Héloise. This shows how large is the number of thwarted and disappointed lovers who visit that cemetery. Not a few of these crossing elements would be averted by less prolonged engagements. There are those, I am aware, who maintain that early and long continued engagements are desirable. Applied to those cases where the parties reside near one another, and are placed under similar influences, this doctrine may be true. The earliest attachments are sometimes most happy and permanent. But how often does it occur, that the condition and character of two individuals become completely changed, in a few short years. Suppose a young man to leave a farm, and take up his abode in a city, as a merchant, or to commence a course of study with a view to a liberal profession. The girl, who, as a child, won his affections, has not, as a young woman, improved in her tastes, and character, like himself. His choice of a companion, if now to be made, would fall on one quite unlike her. There is something of this evil often attendant on protracted engagements. The affections may be biased by enlarged intercourse with the world. There are innumerable perils that beset a long acquaintance of this nature. The safe avoidingof them all comes usually from short engagements, from those in which the character and tastes of the parties are much the same at marriage as at the moment of the first decided intimacy.
There is one topic more which I cannot pass over in this connection. It is that of Spiritual Sympathy. How many are there, who never exchange one thought or feeling upon religion, until after their marriage. It is not until they are constrained to do it, in the bitterness of bereavement perhaps, that they communicate with one another on this momentous subject. Were it not wiser to weave a chaplet early, to their joint remembrance of Christ, rather than hang the first consecrated wreath on the tomb? How would it assuage their mingling tears, could they sorrow, “not as those without hope,” but in the long cherished spirit of a common faith and submission. They are musing on future joys. With what heightened charms and new anticipations would they enter the marriage state, if they had pledged their united hearts, before the Eternal One. They would then feel, that the bond which joined them was not one of a few fleeting years, but imperishable as their cemented souls. Shall they, can they, maintain a midnight silence upon all Heavenly themes, until “the evil days” overtake them?