CHAP XV.

_Shewing how the method of educating |daughters,| makes it

difficult for them to enter into the spirit of Christian

humility. How miserably they are injured and abused by such

an education. The spirit of a better education, represented

in the character of |Eusebia|._

1. THAT turn of mind which is taught and encouraged in the education

of _daughters_, makes it exceeding difficult for them to enter into

such a sense and practice of humility, as the spirit of Christianity

requireth.

*The right education of this _sex_ is of the utmost importance. For

tho’ _women_ don’t carry on the _trade_ and _business_ of the world;

yet as they are _mothers_ and _mistresses_ of families, that have

for some time the care of the education of their children, they are

entrusted with that which is of the greatest consequence to human life.

For this reason, _good_ or _bad_ women are likely to do as much good

or harm in the world, as good or bad men in the greatest business.

*For as the _health_ and _strength_, or _weakness_ of our bodies, is

much owing to _their methods_ of treating us when we were young; so

the _soundness_ or _folly_ of our minds is not less owing to these

_first tempers_ and ways of thinking, which we eagerly received from

the _love_, _tenderness_, _authority_, and constant _conversation_ of

our mothers.

*As we call our first language our _mother-tongue_, so we may as

justly call our first tempers our _mother-tempers_; and perhaps it

may be found more easy to forget the _language_, than to part entirely

with those _tempers_ which we learnt in the _nursery_.

2. It is therefore much to be lamented, that this _sex_, who have the

first forming both of our _bodies_ and _minds_, are not only educated

in _pride_, but in the _silliest_ and most _contemptible_ part of it.

*They are not indeed suffered to dispute with us the proud _prizes_ of

_arts_ and _sciences_; but we turn them over to the study of _beauty_

and _dress_, and the whole world conspires to make them think of

nothing else. _Fathers_ and _mothers_, _friends_ and _relations_, seem

to have no other wish towards the _little girl_, but that she may have

a _fair skin_, _a fine shape_, _dress well_, and _dance_ to admiration.

Now if a fondness for our _persons_, a desire of _beauty_, a love of

_dress_, be a part of pride (as surely it is a most contemptible part

of it) the first step towards a _woman’s humility_, seems to require a

_repentance_ of her education.

For it must be owned, that, generally speaking, good parents are never

more fond of their daughters, than when they see them _too fond_ of

themselves, and _dressed_ in such a manner, as is a great reproach to

the gravity and sobriety of the Christian life.

3. The _church_ has formerly had _eminent saints_ in that sex; and it

may reasonably be thought, that it is purely owing to their _poor_ and

_vain_ education, that this honour of their sex is for the _most part_

confined to _former_ ages.

*The corruption of the world indulges them in great vanity, and

mankind seem to consider them in no other view, than as so many

_painted idols_, that are to allure and gratify their passions; so

that if many women are _vain_, _light_, _gewgaw_ creatures, they

have this to excuse themselves, that they are not only such as their

_education_ has made them, but such as the _generality_ the world

_allows_ them to be.

*But then they should consider, that the _friends_ to their _vanity_

are no friends of theirs; that they are to live for _themselves_;

that they have as great a share in the _rational nature_ as men have;

that they have as much _reason_ to pretend, and as much _necessity_ to

aspire after the _highest accomplishments_ of Christian virtue, as the

_gravest_ and _wisest_ among Christian _philosophers_.

*They should consider, that they are _abused_, and _injured_, and

_betrayed_ from their _only perfection_, whenever they are taught,

that any thing is an _ornament_ in them, that is not an ornament in

the _wisest_ among mankind.

4. *It is generally said, that _women_ are naturally of _little_ and

_vain minds_; but this I look upon to be as _false_, as to say, that

_butchers_ are naturally _cruel_: for as their cruelty is not owing to

their _nature_, but to their _way_ of life; so whatever _littleness_

and _vanity_ is in the minds of women, it is like the cruelty of

_butchers_, a temper that is wrought into them by that life which they

are _taught_ and _accustomed_ to lead.

And if it were true, that they were thus naturally vain and light,

then how much more blameable is that education, which seems contrived

to _strengthen_ and _increase_ this folly and weakness of their

minds?

For if it were a virtue in a woman to be proud and vain of herself,

we could hardly take better means to raise this passion in her, than

those that are now used in their education.

5. *_Matilda_ is a fine woman, of good _breeding_, and great _sense_.

She has three daughters that are educated by herself. She will not

trust them with any one else, or at any _school_, for fear they should

learn any thing ill. She stays with the _dancing-master_ all the time

he is with them, because she will hear every thing that is said to

them. She has heard them read the scriptures so often, that they can

repeat great part of it without book: and there is scarce a good book

of _devotion_, but you may find it in their _closets_.

Had _Matilda_ lived in the first ages of Christianity, she had in all

probability been one of the greatest saints. But as she was born in

corrupt times, where she hardly ever saw a piety higher than her own;

so she has many defects, and communicates them all to her daughters.

6. _Matilda_ never was _meanly_ dressed in her life; and nothing

pleases her in _dress_, but that which is very _rich_, and _beautiful_

to the eye.

Her daughters see her great zeal for religion, but then they see

an equal earnestness for all sorts of _finery_. They see she is not

negligent of her _devotion_; but then they see her more careful to

preserve her _complexion_, and to prevent those changes which time

and age threaten her with.

They are afraid to meet her, if they have missed the _church_; but

then they are more afraid to see her, if they are not _laced_ as

_straight_ as they can possibly be.

She often shews them her _own picture_, which was taken when their

father fell in love with her. She tells them how _distracted_ he was

with passion at the _first sight_ of her; and that she had never had

so _fine_ a _complexion_, but for the diligence of her good mother,

who took exceeding care of it.

The children see so plainly _the temper_ of their mother, that they

affect to be _more pleased_ with dress, than they really are.

They saw their eldest sister once brought to her _tears_, and her

_perverseness_ severely reprimanded, for presuming to say, that she

thought it was better to cover the _neck_, than to go so _far naked_

as the modern dress requires.

7. She stints them in their _meals_, and is very scrupulous of what

they eat and drink, and tells them how many _fine shapes_ she has seen

spoiled in her time for want of such care.

Whenever they begin to look _sanguine_ and _healthful_, she calls in

the assistance of the _doctor_; and if _physic_, or _issues_, will

keep the complexion from inclining to _coarse_ or _ruddy_, she thinks

them well employed.

By this means they are _poor_, _pale_, _sickly_, _infirm_ creatures,

_vapoured_ through want of spirits, _crying_ at the smallest accidents,

_swooning_ away at any thing that frights them, and hardly able to

bear the _weight_ of their best cloaths.

The eldest daughter lived as long as she could under this discipline,

and died in the twentieth year of her age.

When her body was opened, it appeared that her _ribs_ had grown into

her _liver_, and that her other _entrails_ were much hurt, by being

_crushed_ together with her _stays_; which her mother had ordered to

be twitched so strait, that it has often brought tears into her eyes,

whilst the maid was dressing her.

Her youngest daughter is run away with a _gamester_, a man of great

beauty, who in _dressing_ and _dancing_ has no superior.

_Matilda_ says, she should die with grief at this accident, but that

her _conscience_ tells her, she has contributed nothing to it herself.

She appeals to their _closets_, to their books of devotion, to testify

what care she has taken to establish her children in piety.

8. Now, tho’ I don’t intend to say, that no daughters are brought

up in a _better way_ than this; yet thus much may be said, that the

greater part of them are not brought up so well, or accustomed to so

much religion.

Their minds are turned as much to the care of their beauty and dress,

without having such rules of devotion to stand against it. So that if

_solid_ piety is much wanted in that sex, it is the plain consequence

of a corrupt education.

And if they are often ready to receive the first _fops_, _beaux_, and

fine _dancers_, for their husbands, ’tis no wonder that they should

like that in men, which they have been taught to admire in themselves.

Some people will perhaps say, that I am exercising too great a

severity against the sex.

But reasonable persons will observe, that I spare the _sex_, and only

arraign their _education_; that I not only spare them, but plead their

_interest_, assert their _honour_, and only condemn that _education_

which is so _injurious_ thereto.

Their education I cannot spare; but the only reason is, because it

is their _greatest enemy_, because it deprives the world of so many

_blessings_, and the church of so many _saints_.

If it should here be said, that I even charge _too high_ upon their

_education_, and that they are not so _much_ hurt by it, as I imagine.

It may be answered, that tho’ I don’t pretend to state the _exact

degree_ of mischief that is done by it, yet its plain and natural

tendency to do harm, is sufficient to justify the most _absolute_

condemnation of it.

9. But how possible it is to bring up daughters in a more excellent

way, let the following character declare.

*_Eusebia_ is a pious widow, well born, and well bred, and has a good

estate for five daughters, whom she brings up as one entrusted by

God, to fit five virgins for the kingdom of heaven. Her family has

the same regulation as a _religious house_, and all its orders tend

to the support of a constant regular devotion.

She loves them as her spiritual children, and they reverence her

as their spiritual mother, with an affection far above that of the

fondest friends.

She has divided part of her estate among them, that every one may be

charitable out of their own stock, and each of them take it in their

turns to provide for the _poor_ and _sick_ of the parish.

_Eusebia_ brings them up to all kinds of labour that are proper

for women, as _sewing_, _knitting_, _spinning_, and all other parts

of _housewifery_; not for their _amusement_, but that they may

be serviceable to themselves and others, and be saved from those

temptations which attend an idle life.

She tells them, she had rather see them reduced to the necessity

of maintaining themselves by their own work, than to have riches to

excuse themselves from labour. For tho’, says she, you may be able to

assist the poor without your labour, yet by your labour you will be

able to assist them more.

10. If _Eusebia_ has lived as free from sin as it is possible for

human nature, it is because she is always watching and guarding

against _all instances_ of pride. And if her virtues are stronger and

higher than other peoples, ’tis because they are all founded in a deep

_humility_.

My children, says she, when your father died, I was much pitied by my

friends, as having all the care of a family, and the management of an

estate fallen upon me.

But my own grief was founded upon another principle: I was grieved to

see myself deprived of so faithful a friend; and that such an eminent

example of Christian virtues should be taken from the eyes of his

children, before they were of an age to love and follow it.

But as to worldly cares, which my friends thought so heavy upon me,

they are most of them of our own making, and fall away as soon as we

_know ourselves_.

If a person in a _dream_ is disturbed with strange appearances, his

trouble is over as soon as he is _awake_, and sees that it was a dream.

Now, when a right knowledge of ourselves enters into our minds, it

makes as great a change in all our thoughts and apprehensions, as when

we _awake_ from the _wandrings_ of a dream.

We acknowledge a man to be _mad_ or _melancholy_, who fancies himself

to be _glass_, and so is afraid of stirring; or taking himself to be

_wax_, dares not let the _sun_ shine upon him.

But, my children, there are things in the world which pass for

_wisdom_, _politeness_, _grandeur_, _happiness_, and _fine breeding_,

which shew as great _ignorance_ of ourselves, and might as justly pass

for _thorough madness_, as when a man fancies himself to be _glass_ or

_ice_.

A woman that dares not appear in the world without _fine cloaths_,

that thinks it is a happiness to have a face _finely coloured_, to

have a skin _delicately fair_, that had rather die than be reduced to

poverty, and be forced to work for a maintenance, is as ignorant of

herself to the full, as he that fancies himself to be _glass_.

11. For this reason, all my discourse with you, has been to acquaint

you with yourselves, and to accustom you to such books, as might best

instruct you in this greatest of all knowledge.

You would think it hard, not to know the family into which you was

born, what ancestors you were descended from, and what estate was to

come to you; but, my children, you may know all this with exactness,

and yet be as ignorant of yourselves, as he that takes himself to be

_wax_.

For tho’ you were all of you born of my body, and bear your father’s

name, yet you are all of you _pure spirits_. I don’t mean that you

have not bodies; ♦but that _all_ which deserves to be called _you_,

is nothing else but _spirit_. A being spiritual and rational in its

nature; that is as contrary to all corporeal beings, as _life_ is

contrary to _death_; that is made in the image of God, to live for

ever, never to cease any more, but to enjoy _life_, and _reason_, and

_knowledge_, and _happiness_ in the presence of God, and the society

of angels, and glorious spirits, to all eternity.

♦ ‘hut’ replaced with ‘but’

Every thing that you call yours, besides this spirit, is but like your

_cloathing_; something that is only to be used for awhile, and then to

end, and die, and wear away, and to signify no more to you than the

_cloathing_ and _bodies_ of other people.

12. But, my children, you are not only in this manner _spirits_,

but you are _fallen_ spirits, that began your life in a state of

corruption and disorder, full of tempers and passions, that blind

and darken your reason, and incline you to that which is hurtful.

Your bodies are not only poor and perishing like your cloaths, but

they are like ill _infected cloaths_, that fill you with ill diseases,

which oppress the soul with sickly appetites, and vain cravings.

So that all of us are like two beings, that have, as it were, two

hearts within us; with the one we see, and taste, and admire reason,

and holiness; with the other we incline to pride, and vanity, and

sensual delights.

If you would know the one thing necessary to all the world, it is this,

to preserve and perfect all that is _rational_, _holy_, and _divine_

in our nature, and to mortify, remove, and destroy all _vanity_,

_pride_, and _sensuality_.

Could you think, my children, when you look at the world, and see

what _customs_, and _fashions_, and _pleasures_, and _troubles_, and

_projects_, employ the hearts and time of mankind, that things were

thus?

But don’t you be affected at these things; the world is in a great

_dream_, and but few people are awake in it.

We fancy that we fall into darkness, when we die; but alas, we are

most of us in the dark till then; and the eyes of our souls only then

begin to see, when our bodily eyes are closing.

13. You see then your state, my children; you are to improve and

perfect the spirit that is within you; you are to prepare it for the

kingdom of heaven, to nourish it with the love of God, to adorn it

with good works, and to make it as holy and heavenly as you can. You

are to preserve it from the errors and vanities of the world; to save

it from the corruptions of the body, from those false delights and

sensual tempers which the body tempts it with.

You are to nourish your spirits with pious readings, and holy

meditations, with watchings, fastings, and prayers, that you may

relish that eternal state which is to begin when this life ends.

As to your bodies, you are to consider them as _poor_, _perishing_

things, that are corrupt at present, and will soon drop into common

dust; you are to watch over them as _enemies_, that are always trying

to betray you, and so never follow their counsel; you are to consider

them as the _place_ and _habitation_ of your souls, and so keep

them _clean_, and _decent_; you are to consider them as the servants

and instruments of action, and so give them _food_, and _rest_, and

_raiment_, that they may be strong and healthful to do the duties of

a charitable, useful, pious life.

Whilst you live thus, you live like yourselves; and whenever you have

less regard to your souls, or more regard to your bodies; whenever you

are more intent upon adorning your persons, than upon perfecting your

souls, you are much more beside yourselves, than he that had rather

have a _laced coat_, than an healthful body.

14. For this reason, my children, I have taught you nothing that was

dangerous for you to learn: I have kept you from every thing that

might betray you into _weakness_ and _folly_; or make you think any

thing fine, but a _fine mind_; any thing happy, but the favour of God;

or any thing desirable, but to do all the good you possibly can.

Instead of the vain, immodest entertainment of _plays_ and _operas_,

I have taught you to delight in visiting the _sick_ and _poor_. What

♦_music_, and _dancing_, and _diversions_ are to many in the world,

that prayers and devotions, and psalms are to you. Your hands have not

been employed in plaiting the hair, and adorning your persons; but in

making cloaths for the naked. You have not wasted your fortunes upon

yourselves; but have added your labour to them, to do more good to

other people.

♦ ‘musick’ replaced with ‘music’

Instead of forced _shapes_, _genteel airs_, and _affected motions_,

I have taught you to conceal your bodies with _modest garments_, and

let the world have nothing to view of you, but the _plainness_, and

_sincerity_, and _humility_ of all your behaviour.

15. You know, my children, the _high perfection_, and the _great

rewards_ of virginity; you know how it frees from worldly cares and

troubles, and furnishes means and opportunities of higher advancements

in the divine life. Therefore love, and esteem, and honour virginity:

bless God for all that glorious company of holy virgins, that from

the beginning of Christianity have, in the several ages of the church,

renounced the cares and pleasures of matrimony, to be perpetual

examples of contemplation and prayer.

But as every one has their proper gift from God, as I look upon you

all to be so many great blessings of a married state; so I leave to

your choice, either to do as I have done, or to aspire after higher

degrees of perfection in a virgin state.

I press nothing upon you, but to make the most of human life, and to

aspire after perfection in whatever state you chuse.

Never therefore consider yourselves as persons that are to be _seen_,

_admired_, and _courted_ by men; but as _poor sinners_, that are to

save yourselves from the vanities and follies of a miserable world.

Learn to live for your own sakes, and the service of God; and let

nothing in the world be of any value with you, but that which you can

turn into a service to God, and a means of your future happiness.

16. Whether married therefore, or unmarried, consider yourselves as

mothers and sisters, as friends and relations to all that want your

assistance; and never allow yourselves to be idle, whilst others are

in want of any thing that your hands can make for them.

This useful, charitable, humble employment of yourselves, is what I

recommend to you with great earnestness; and besides the good you will

thereby do to other people, your own heart will be improved by it.

For next to _reading_, _meditation_, and _prayer_, there is nothing

that so secures our hearts from foolish passions, as some _useful_,

_humble_ employment of ourselves.

Never therefore consider your labour as an _amusement_, that is to

get rid of your time, and so may be as trifling as you please; but

consider it as something that is to be serviceable to yourselves and

others, that is to serve some sober ends of life, to save and redeem

your time, and make it turn to your account, when the works of all

people shall be tried by fire.

If there is any good to be done by your labour, if you can possibly

employ yourselves usefully to other people, how silly is it, how

contrary to the wisdom of religion, to make that a _mere amusement_,

which might as easily be made an exercise of the _greatest

charity_?

What would you think of the wisdom of him, that should employ his time

in distilling of waters, and making liquors which no body could use,

merely to amuse himself with the variety of their colour, when, with

less labour and expence, he might satisfy the wants of those who have

nothing to drink?

Yet he would be as wisely employed, as those that are amusing

themselves with such tedious works as they neither need, nor hardly

know how to use when they are finished; when, with less labour and

expence, they might be doing as much good, as he that is _cloathing_

the naked, or _visiting_ the sick.

Be glad therefore to know the wants of the poorest people, and let

your hands be employed in making such things for them, as their

necessities require. By thus making your labour a gift and service to

the poor, your ordinary work will be changed into a holy service, and

made as acceptable to God as your devotions.

This will make you true disciples of your meek Lord and Master, who

_came into the world not to be ministered unto, but to minister_; and

tho’ he was Lord of all, and among the creatures of his own making,

yet was among them _as one that serveth_.

17. Christianity has then had its effect upon your hearts, when it has

removed pride from you, and made you delight in humbling yourselves

beneath the lowest of all your fellow creatures.

Live therefore, my children, as you have begun your lives, in humble

labour for the good of others; not in ceremonious visits and vain

acquaintances. Contract no foolish friendships, or vain fondnesses

for particular persons; but love them most, that most turn your love

towards God, and your compassion towards all the world.

But above all, avoid the conversation of _fine-bred fops_ and _beaux_,

and hate nothing more than the idle discourse, the flattery and

compliments of that sort of men; for they are the _shame_ of their

own _sex_, and ought to be the _abhorrence_ of yours.

When you go abroad, let humility, modesty, and a decent carriage, be

all the _state_ you take upon you; and let tenderness, compassion, and

good-nature, be all the _fine breeding_ you shew in any place.

If evil _speaking_, _scandal_, or _backbiting_, be the conversation

where you happen to be, be as much grieved as if you was amongst

cursing and swearing, and retire as soon as you can.

Tho’ you intend to marry, yet let the time never come, till you find

a man that has those perfections which you have been labouring after

yourselves; who is likely to be a friend to all your virtues, and with

whom it is better to live, than to want the benefit of his example.

18. Love _poverty_, and reverence _poor people_; as for many reasons,

so particularly for this, because our blessed Saviour was one of the

number.

Visit and converse with them frequently; you will often find

_simplicity_, _innocence_, _patience_, _fortitude_, and great piety

amongst them.

Rejoice at every opportunity of doing an humble action; whether it be,

as the scripture expresses it, in _washing the saints feet_, that is,

in waiting upon, and serving those that are below you, or in bearing

with the haughtiness and ill manners of those that are your equals,

or above you. For there is nothing better than humility; it is the

fruitful soil of all virtues, and every thing that is kind and good,

naturally grows from it.

Therefore, my children, pray for, and practise, humility; and reject

every thing in _dress_, or _carriage_, or _conversation_, that has any

appearance of pride.

Strive to do every thing that is praise-worthy, but do nothing in

order to be praised; nor think of any reward for your labours of love,

till Christ cometh with all his holy angels.

19. And above all, my children, have a care of vain thoughts of your

own virtues. For as soon as ever people live different from the common

way of the world, the devil represents to their minds the height of

their perfections; and is content they should excel in good works,

provided he can make them proud of them.

Therefore watch over your virtues with a jealous eye, and reject every

vain thought, as you would reject the most wicked imaginations; and

think what a loss it would be to you, to have the fruit of all your

good works devoured by the vanity of your minds.

Never therefore allow yourselves to despise those who do not follow

your rules, but love them, and pray to God for them; and let humility

be always _whispering_ in your ears, that you yourselves would fall

from those rules to-morrow, if God should leave you to your own

strength and wisdom.

When therefore you have spent days and weeks well, do not suffer your

hearts to contemplate any thing as your own, but give all the glory to

God, who has carried you thro’ such rules of holy living, as you were

not able to observe by your own strength; and take care to begin the

next day, not as proficients in virtue, that can do great matters, but

as _poor beginners_, that want the daily assistance of God to save you

from the _grossest sins_.

20. Your dear father was an humble, watchful, pious, wise man. Whilst

his sickness would suffer him to talk with me, his discourse was

chiefly about your education. He knew the benefits of humility, he saw

the ruins which pride made in our sex; and therefore he conjured me

with the tenderest expressions, to renounce the _fashionable ways_ of

educating daughters in _pride_ and _softness_, in the care of their

_beauty_ and _dress_; and to bring you all up in the _plainest_,

_simplest_ instances of an humble, holy, and industrious life.

He taught me an admirable rule of humility, which he practised all

the days of his life; which was this, to let no morning pass, without

thinking upon some _frailty_ and _infirmity_ of our own, that may

put us to _confusion_, make us _blush inwardly_, and entertain a mean

opinion of ourselves.

Think therefore, my children, that the soul of your good father, who

is now with God, speaks to you through my mouth; and let the double

desire of your father, who is gone, and me, who am with you, prevail

upon you to love God, to study your own perfection, to practise

humility, and, with innocent labour, to do all the good you can to

all your fellow creatures, till God calls you to another life.

*Thus did the pious widow educate her daughters. And a very ordinary

knowledge of the _spirit_ of _Christianity_, may convince us, that

no education can be of true advantage to young women, but that which

trains them up in _humble industry_, in _great plainness_ of life, in

_exact modesty_ of _dress_, _manners_ and _carriage_, and in _strict

devotion_. For what should a Christian woman be, but a _plain_,

_unaffected_, _modest_, _humble_ creature, averse to every thing in

her _dress_ and _carriage_, that can draw the eyes of beholders, or

gratify the passions of lewd and amorous persons?

21. *These considerations may teach you to let no day pass, without

a serious application to God, for the _whole spirit_ of humility:

fervently beseeching him to fill every part of your soul with it; to

make it the ruling, constant habit of your mind, that you may not only

feel it, but feel all your other tempers arising from it; that you

may have no thoughts, no desires, no designs, but such as are the true

fruits of an humble, meek, and lowly heart.

That you may always appear poor, and little, and mean in your own eyes,

and fully content that others should have the same opinion of you.

That the whole course of your life, your _expence_, your _house_, your

_dress_, your manner of _eating_, _drinking_, _conversing_, and doing

_every thing_, may be so many continual proofs of the humility of your

heart.

That you may look for nothing, claim nothing, resent nothing; that

you may go thro’ all the actions of life calmly and quietly, as in

the presence of God, looking wholly unto him, acting wholly for him;

neither seeking applause, nor resenting neglects, or affronts, but

doing and receiving every thing in the meek and lowly spirit of our

Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

The works of the Rev. John Wesley, Vol. 05 (of 32) · 第 45 / 48 题