HOME.
Domestic virtues the glory of a country. Views taken of Home. The
Spiritual one. Scripture females distinguished at home. The Filial
relation. Burns' touching description. Daughters of Milton. The
Father. The Mother. Mrs. Sigourney on the "living lost." The good
Sister Wordsworth. The Teacher. Other Inmates. Domestics. Home
friendly to the Virtues. Health. Industry. Order. Frugality. Noble
sentiment of Lady Jane Grey. Gratitude. Disinterestedness.
Elizabeth of England. Charities. Quietness. Spirituality. Piety at
home the zest of Joys. It gilds the darkest cloud.
Wherein consists the true glory of a people? Their prosperity does not
lie simply in outward abundance. It depends far more on the solid
virtues and the Christian graces of the young in their midst. And these
qualities appertain not only to our sons, in whom it is often imagined
the whole strength at least of nations is concentrated. Our daughters
likewise are concerned in the advancement of this high object. One of
the sacred writers implores for his countrymen this blessing; "that our
daughters may be as corner stones, polished after the similitude of a
palace." They must be "corner stones," lying at the very foundation of
the social edifice, and therefore an essential part of its support. And
to their power must be added moral beauty. They are to be "polished
after the similitude of" that most splendid of structures, "a palace."
Observe also the relation through which the sex may afford this aid to
their race. It is not petitioned by the writer referred to, that our
women may become all eloquent orators; or be fitted to bear the sword,
or sway the sceptre; nor yet that they may rival man in physical
achievements; nor even is the prayer that they may be renowned for
genius and intellect alone, or supremely. But to a far less conspicuous
and imposing sphere are our thoughts directed by the Psalmist. It is to
home, to "our daughters," and through them to the domestic relations in
general, that we are pointed for the elements of public prosperity.
"Happy is that people," among whom these are assiduously cherished.
Happy are they, because a people "whose God is the Lord."
What views are usually taken by the youthful female of her parental
home? It has various aspects. To one it appears pre-eminently as the
place in which she is to find the necessaries, comforts, and, perhaps,
luxuries, of life. The heads of the family are appointed to toil for
her. At her feet must brothers and sisters lay the daily tribute of
service. She exacts from each inmate all the attention that can be
rendered to one born to command. She is, in one word, a household
divinity.
Another regards her home as a scene for display. The furniture, the
style, the outline, and the filling up, must be all for the eye of the
visitor. If she consent to give her own hand to the work, the main
motive is for fireside decorations.
A third is alive to the natural ties which bind her to one and another;
but it is chiefly as a matter of sentiment, that she contemplates even
the nearest and most sacred relations. Has she been absent for a season,
how fervent are her salutations, on returning to her native spot. Does
sickness assail a parent or a brother, and life seem exposed, what
tears, what wringing of the hands, what uncontrolled wailings are heard.
But the test of true love is not here. It is the personal sacrifices we
make for another, the toil, self-denial, watchfulness and patient
service we bestow on him, that reveal the sincerity and depth of our
affection.
Still another class are those young women who esteem the great purpose
of their home to be the furnishing all possible facilities for their
literary instruction. If they attend school constantly and improve their
time there, then they have a claim on all their connections to wait
their bidding, and execute their mandates, in every interval of study.
The whole being is thus absorbed in the intellect.
There remains one more view of the fireside, and that is the moral,
spiritual, religious one. This I believe to be the grand figure on the
canvass of domestic life. Every other should be subservient to this. It
should stand forth with a commanding interest, and address us in a tone
of authority. Our home may be welcome for the conveniences and comforts
it affords. We may take a just pride in its external aspect. Our hearts
are allowed to fix some of their affections on its objects. It is right
that the young should seek earnestly the means of intellectual culture
at the hands of parental care. But these are all "lesser lights." They
can only borrow and reflect. There must be in the highest heaven a
"greater light," even the Sun of Righteousness, or life sinks beneath a
darkness that may be felt.
The Scriptures assign this rank to the moral bearings of home. The
patriarchs exhibited their fairest virtues in the private relations of
life. Judaism was penetrated with a domestic spirit. The age of the wise
man could furnish qualities, of which, in the book of Proverbs, we have
an illustrious picture, in the character of a perfect matron and wife.
Sarah, Rebecca, Ruth, Hannah, where was the scene of their glory? In
home. Equally does the New Testament exalt the spiritual influence of
the domestic relation. Who was the immortal Mary? The mother of Jesus.
What gave Martha and the other Mary their renown in the gospel? They
were sisters of Lazarus, and partly from their fidelity as such, were
loved by their Master. She who cast the two mites into the treasury,
among the rich the richest, was the more commended because a poor widow.
Lydia, not only gave herself, by the baptismal seal, unto God, but
honored the cause in her household. Thus does home blend its waters with
the river of life. Fidelity to its trusts is an inseparable ingredient
in the cup of salvation.
Therefore would I conjure the youthful female to value her domestic
bonds as a means of moral culture, and never, under sunny skies, or
beneath clouds that lower, to lose sight of this use of them. She should
carry into the detail of her daily walk religious principle. Not the
slightest act should she perform, which is at war with her spiritual
culture. Love, duty, trust, these may enter into the very soul of her
being. Let her place them before her, and pursue them steadily, and she
shall become the "corner-stone" of her family, "polished" with a divine
lustre.
But, to render a greater aid to her who desires and wills domestic
excellence, let us now speak of the particular relations of home, and
their natural, consequent claims on the young of her sex.
The filial relation is replete with moral incentives. To both parents a
daughter is indebted beyond even the powers of requital usually granted
her sex. From the hour of her birth up to the present moment she has
been to them an object of unceasing thought, care, and solicitude. The
little being, over whom, as she graced the cradle, they hung with the
deepest joy, spoke to their hearts the more eloquently, by her very
inability to tell of her wants, by her utter helplessness. No labor was
spared, no sacrifice withheld, did they promise to advance her
happiness. A few weeks pass, and she is radiant with smiles, the
emanations of light and love; but they are smiles effaced often by
tears, and for these, the parent cannot rest till they dry on the cheek.
And soon her age exhibits character, dispositions, propensities. How
anxiously is their earliest developement observed. What plans are
devised, what efforts employed, what prayers nightly ascend, that she
may prove an heir of grace and godliness.
"The parent-pair their secret homage pay,
And proffer up to Heaven the warm request
That He who stills the raven's clam'rous nest,
And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride,
Would, in the way his wisdom sees the best,
For them, and for their little ones provide;
But chiefly, in their hearts with _grace divine_ preside."
That father, with what meditations, and watchfulness, and alternate
hopes and fears has his soul been visited, as he looked on this
daughter. How has his daily toil been cheered by the anticipation that
its fruits would afford means to meet her wants, to educate her well,
and to furnish resources for supplying the outward and inward
necessities of her responsible age.
Can she love, respect, and honor this benefactor? Can she avoid it
rather, who does not ask? I know how much has been written, in romances,
of the devotedness of daughters; and yet the warmest coloring of this
sentiment seems never beyond parental desert. There are scenes in which
this truth is strikingly illustrated. It was a severe task for the
daughters of Milton to read to their blind parent, languages sealed to
their own understanding; but was it not the discharge of a simple duty?
We are struck with the Roman instance of filial piety, in which the
life-blood was shed by tender woman to save a father. Yet when should
one meet a voluntary death, if not for the redemption of a parent?
Let the daughter confide then in her father, and seek so to demean
herself that his eye might dwell fondly on the very secrets of her
heart. Let her refer to his opinions, consult his wishes, and conform
to his tastes and habits. His reception as he returns at evening to his
fireside, should not consist in ceaseless importunities, nor of aught
which terminates in unreasonable regards for self. How much better were
a studious concern for his wants, and the bestowal of some act of
delicate attention.
His pecuniary circumstances should be thoughtfully considered. Perhaps
he is destitute. Then do not press him with calls he is pained, but yet
compelled, to deny you. It may be that his fortune has recently been
marred. Consider this, and be willing to relinquish personal
gratifications and adapt your feelings and desires to his present
situation. Or he is thrown, perhaps, on the bed of sickness. Manifest
now the reality of that affection you professed for him in his health.
Delight to bathe his fevered brow, and to perform those unnumbered
services, for which Providence has qualified your sex.
In his old age be still more devoted. Point out to his failing vision
the path he would tread. Let him feel that you are striving to solace
his declining years, and to requite that love which was shed upon you,
the earliest moment of your consciousness. Can you do less for him, now
that desire fails and the grasshopper has become a burden and he must
soon go to his long home? Of you may it be said,
"Amid the giddy round of prosperous years,
The birth of new affections, and the joys
That cluster round earth's favorites, there walked
Still at her side, the image of her Sire."
But, if all this be due to a father, how shall we describe the claims of
a mother? To this parent the daughter owes her very being. These are the
arms which never tired of supporting her in infancy. For her the step
was light, the voice hushed, the breath almost suppressed. To minister
to her wants the social visit was forborne, and home made the one
thought, until the cheek grew pale, and the eye dim for sleeplessness.
The sickness of her daughter poured new waters into a cup, that seemed
already filled with cares. To clothe and adorn her, every personal
comfort was cheerfully foregone. That she might enjoy the best mental
and moral culture, this mother discharged daily those services, which
the domestic walk daily demands.
In sorrow there is no bosom that consoles like a mother's. Into her ear
the child pours its every trial. When the world censures, she will
soothe. Let injury, degradation, distress come upon us, let us dread the
eye of others, or, through guilt, shrink timidly from them, we flee to
her for refuge. This affection is bestowed on the daughter with a
fulness and a permanence, which she cannot comprehend, and remain still
insensible.
In view of her relation, the true daughter will always sympathize with,
and aid, this her greatest earthly benefactor. It will be her study, not
to throw every burden on her spirit, because she is willing to bear
them. No, her point of view will be the opposite of this. "How much,"
she will ask, "can I do for my mother? Is there nothing in which I can
relieve her from her toils? The utmost I can render her is but a meagre
compensation for her countless sacrifices for my sake."
The daughter may not only think of those domestic duties which require
manual efforts, but in the general education of her brothers or sisters,
she may prove a powerful ally with their natural teacher. Having
composed the infant to rest, let its childhood continue to be her care.
She can aid it to lisp the first accents of its native tongue. In the
rudiments of knowledge she may be an efficient instructor. For this work
her age peculiarly qualifies her. As the breath of spring quickens the
tender bud, so let her youthful spirit infuse vigor into these minds yet
younger than her own.
For the sake of a mother's heart and hopes she should strive for a
spotless character. What joy and pride will her obedience to Jesus
impart. Let her know, that the virtue of her daughter is dear to a
parent as life itself. What a weight is thrown on that bosom, if she
fail of goodness. Death is grievous:
"But ye, who for the _living_ lost
That agony in secret bear,
Who shall with soothing words address
The strength of your despair?"
Weigh well the influence you exert on this parent. God has ordained that
the child should re-act on the parent in his riper years, that the
daughter should become in her turn the counsellor and the confidant of
her mother. Let her wield this power with wisdom and in purity of
conscience. Never take advantage of your influence, to secure a sanction
of the wrong. But lead your mother, and aspire yourself, toward perfect
integrity, and the sinlessness of heaven. Let the portraiture of a holy
life be drawn on the canvass before you; then will you enjoy the sweet
anticipation, as your tears bedew her grave,
"My mother--where thou art gone
Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.
May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore,
The parting word shall pass my lips no more."
If the claims of a parent be such as I have described, then no defect of
character, still less any outward deficiency, can justify the daughter
in a disregard of father or mother. Wealth does not increase the filial
obligations, neither does poverty diminish them. Honors, dress, fashion
did not lay the foundation of your duty to love and respect your
parents. Let them then live in obscurity, or be constrained to wear
plain apparel, or have unfashionable furniture, or lack graceful
manners, none the less are you solemnly bound to honor and comfort them.
There is one circumstance, especially, which leads some young ladies
cruelly to neglect their parents, and yet with no reason whatever. The
daughter has received a better education than they; she has spent a few
months, perhaps, at a boarding school, and learnt music and French. But
what are these, and all her accomplishments worth, if they have but
taught her to despise or neglect her truest benefactors? Can she cast
off, in their old age, those who toiled and bore unnumbered burdens, to
procure for her these literary privileges? If she do this, then, woe to
her; and woe to the unfortunate being, to whom she may be joined as a
partner. For no sin does the curse of Heaven more surely descend on one,
let it be delayed as it may, than for unkindness to parents.
Nor does their guilt dissolve the bonds of filial duty. Every offender
deserves more our pity than our cruelty or wrath. Who then should be
commiserated and watched over, whose evil should we seek to overcome
with good, and whose heart to melt by love, if not an offending
parent's?
Another relation, happily suited to promote female virtue, is that of
Brother and Sister. Here are those united, not only by nature, but by
all those sacred and dear ties which belong to the associations of
childhood. Theirs is not the conjunction for an evening of planets,
whose orbits lie all apart; but it is a union that dates from the
earliest moments of life. And it is one as pure as it is primitive,
giving scope for unalterable attachment, and deep joys, for kind offices
and sincere virtue.
But let it not be imagined that all these fruits spring from the soil
spontaneously. Not of necessity is a sister happy in this relation; and
the reason is apparent. She is not coerced into sympathy, and
self-sacrifice, and devotedness to her brothers, and without these
qualities no outward connection brings peace and pleasure to the heart.
It must be her study to devise means, frame plans,--and to execute them
faithfully,--of promoting their good. Far will it be from accomplishing
this most desirable end, to make protestations of her love, when
prompted by impulse. Her actions must be the still, small voice that
conveys the rich tones of her heart. If she refuse to enter into the
schemes and prospects of a brother, and to render him those minute
services, which both indicate affection and prompt to it, she will
regard this relation as a dull thing. It may be but a source of
alienated feelings, of vexation and strife.
Especially must the sister guard well the avenues to moral danger, which
beset her brothers. Let her strive to make home attractive in their
sight. Is she competent in music, she has here a means of ever-new
interest, and of affording that variety of recreation for which the
young man thirsts. By pleasant conversation, and by reading occasionally
a volume to a brother, she may bind him to the fireside. Does he desire
to pass the evening abroad? Better join him, even at some cost of
personal ease, or of taste, than leave him exposed to seek places of
equivocal character. Be his confidant, his adviser, constant in
demonstrations of kindness. Perhaps he is aiding your progress in the
walks of intellect. How can you so well requite his care, as by a steady
emanation of moral and spiritual light? A sister's love is often an
amulet to the subsequent character of a circle of brothers. She whispers
to them, when on the brink of temptation. Her form is ever present.
Their thoughts wander often to their childhood's home, and in secret
self-communion the sentiment re-visits the heart,
"For I, methinks, till I grow old
As fair before me shall behold,
As I do now, the cottage small,
The lake, the wood, the waterfall;
And thee, the Spirit of them all."
The services of a sister are peculiarly to be appreciated by the other
sisters. If they comprehend most fully the joys of one another, so do
they those sorrows, with which no "stranger intermeddleth." They, who
have shared one mind and one heart, from their early days, can
comprehend those sufferings which not even the parent, from her elder
age, entirely participates. In sickness they may be true angels of mercy
to each other. And in those trials, to which their condition through
life subjects them, no sympathy is dearer than a sister's.
How unnatural is a deficiency in these holy dispositions. Can it be that
the one is ever an object of envy, or jealousy, or ever regarded with
distrust, coldness, or still more with hostility, by the other? Let them
beware of the first approach of a contentious spirit. Their manners,--as
indeed those of all in a family circle,--should never be rude, or
careless, but ordered with watchfulness, delicacy, and propriety. The
manner between sisters may be such as of itself to enshrine and secure
their mutual kindness. It may too, by negligence, become a provoker of
dissension and enmity. The fairest of maidens, is not she whose cheek
mantles in beauty; but she whose gentle, Christian, courteous, carriage
with brother and sister, radiates a perpetual moral beauty.
The eldest of a band of sisters is by nature appointed to teach,
intellectually and spiritually, those of her circle younger than
herself. How can she so well fulfil all righteousness in the domestic
sphere, as by cheerfully sharing with her mother this office? Her age
and experience qualify her to instruct the mind and train the
affections, and tempt forth the virtues, of pliant childhood. Neither
sister nor brother can estimate, in this life, all they owe to such a
teacher. Eternity will reveal the extent, and complete the reward, of
these sacred services.
The young woman may be useful, still farther, to all the Inmates of her
father's dwelling. Not one of the number can witness her daily
deportment, without receiving from it some impression of her character.
And now what shall this be? Do all testify that she lives unto others,
that the noble spirit of the gospel is inhaled, as the life-breath of
her moral being? She has constant opportunities to deny herself for the
sake of some member of the household. Does she seek, or does she shun,
such opportunities?
It is not the parent alone, who has demands on her kind consideration.
Nor yet is this duty restricted by the fraternal bond. Her remote
relations should be sedulously regarded. Let me add that, if her
situation be a favored one, her poorer relations should be objects of
thought and attention. How ungrateful for her own blessings were
she,--and how forgetful, that soon she also may experience the
buffetings of fortune,--did she treat such a relation with negligence,
or with a haughty, condescending, patronizing, which is often a
heart-lacerating, attention.
Why should a visitor be despised because her age, or manners, or dress
are not perfectly agreeable? Woman has been celebrated by travellers for
her universal hospitality. Let it not be strangers alone, and these the
learned and prosperous, who enjoy her smiles. All, who come beneath a
father's roof, should be made to feel that the daughters are Christian
ladies.
Nor should Domestics fail of receiving a respectful and generous
treatment from the young females of the family. They are endowed with
the same nature, body and mind, as ourselves. Why then demand of them
tasks, which only the mere animal can sustain? We should strive to
assist ourselves, for their sake, no less than our own. Spare them in
their sickness. Speak to them always in a tone of gentleness. If an
overbearing manner in the head of a family be hard to meet, how must it
strike a domestic, when coming from the younger members? Above all,
provide something for the mental, moral, and religious, good of the
domestic. Can you not lend her a volume, or read aloud to her yourself?
Can you not, occasionally at least, facilitate her attendance at church?
Remember you must meet this being at the common judgment-seat of Christ;
and let this thought pervade your whole manner toward her.
Having contemplated a part of the duties growing out of special domestic
relations, let us now advert to a few of the prominent moral virtues,
for whose culture home is peculiarly congenial.
I begin with what some may regard as hardly to be dignified with the
name of duty. But if Health be essential to happiness, and the
basis,--as it doubtless is,--of several Christian qualities, who shall
deny the sacred title of duty, to the care of the physical system?
Whence proceed that morbid sensitiveness, that sickly sentimentalism,
and that puny selfishness, which sometimes mark the delicate woman? They
spring from ill health; and while no means are employed to remove the
root of these moral evils, in vain will the branches of each month or
each day of her life be pruned diligently away. If there be no muscular
energy the nerves become irritable, and the temper a source of perpetual
disquiet, not only to one's self, but to every associate in the
household.
It is therefore a duty of the young woman, for health's sake, not to
allow a kind mother to become her waiting maid, but to exert herself in
the performance of domestic, manual services. If she permit the needle
to engross those hours, a part of which should be sacredly devoted to
physical exercise, then let her know that God is thereby dishonored; for
laws, which he thought worthy to establish, are, by her negligence,
daily and directly violated.
Home is a moral school for the acquisition of habits of Industry. It is
a singular fact that, while every young man is trained to a regular
occupation,--even the sons of the wealthiest are so,--and to have no
business or calling is, with this sex, deemed a reproach, young ladies
are, in some circles, not only excused in indolence, but regarded as
disgraced, if they are industrious and useful. Is this a pure state of
society? Are not all who thus judge, and all who thus live, sadly
deluded?
God has wedded industry and happiness, and ordained that they shall
never be divorced. Idleness corrodes the mental faculties, and thus
causes depression and gloom. It is the disturber of conscience; for
nothing makes us so miserable, as the thought that we are wasting our
lives, and are drones in society. Blessed are the poor; for they know
the sweets of toil. Pitiable are the rich, if their treasures generate a
selfish indolence.
Equally true is it that diligence is indissolubly bound to virtue. The
mind, when unoccupied by profitable topics, roams on forbidden ground.
Folded arms are accompanied by a distempered imagination. The tongue of
the idle often setteth a world on fire; for scandal and gossip vegetate
to rankness in the garden of sloth. The degradation, therefore, is not
on the side of work. Be not ashamed to labor; for it is Heaven's decree
that all should labor. Conceal not your industry. It is honorable, and
honored by all good minds. In a republic especially, where the follies
of caste should never enter, let woman, if she must glory, glory in
being scrupulously devoted to some useful occupation. So living, she
will find grace and goodness attend on her steps.
Where is the habit of order better acquired, than amid the routine of a
well arranged household? In what school can a girl so well learn lessons
of energy and firmness, as in that where she relieves a mother more and
more, as her ability increases, of the charge of her family? Neatness is
of primary importance. The care of a brother's linen, or even so humble
a teacher as the duster, may inculcate this virtue. Let her, who prizes
cheerfulness aright, know that never does she sing lullaby to an infant
sister, or act as a peace-maker between two contentious brothers,
without making music in her own heart.
At the period of my writing no quality is more loudly commended than
frugality. It should always be encouraged, for its Christian influences.
She, who is prodigal of her father's possessions, is seldom mindful of
the calls of charity, or marked by propriety of dress, and the
subordination of the appetites. I have elsewhere spoken of habits of
industry as a preparation for reverses of fortune; but were a young lady
perfectly assured of pecuniary independence through life, for the sake
of her own character, she should be diligent and frugal. Let her expend
freely for her mental culture, and devote large sums rather to the
relief of the needy, than to selfish indulgences. She who belongs to the
mass in this country, removed alike from the extremes of wealth and
poverty, can never with impunity allow herself in habits of
extravagance. This thought should be kept daily in mind, as she pursues
the round of domestic duty. The wardrobe and the table constantly
suggest it.
The duties of the fireside are friendly to Contentment. Why are females
so often restless and disquieted at their own abode? Why does ennui prey
on their spirits, save when some visit or visitor is in prospect? How
should it be, that daughters, blest as those of America now are, should
pant for the excitements of a round of public pleasures? Providence
designed our institutions for the promotion of woman's content and
peace, no less than for that of man. Her hearth-stone was intended to
be dear to her soul. She, who takes right views of herself and her
duties, will ever find it so.
Here is an individual, who is disturbed by ambition. Her own little
family circle is too narrow a sphere for her. But she mistakes the
springs of content. Let her know that the wreath she wears should rest
on her heart. The reply of the illustrious Lady Jane Grey, to those who
informed her that her father had left her the crown of England, is
worthy of her sex. "I am not so young, nor so little read in the smiles
of fortune, to suffer myself to be taken by them. My liberty is better
than the chain you proffer me, with what precious stones soever it may
be adorned, or of what gold soever framed;--if you love me sincerely and
in good earnest, you will rather wish me a secure and quiet fortune,
though mean, than an exalted condition, exposed to the wind and followed
by some dismal fall." Her melancholy fate, which occurred within ten
days from the utterance of this language, gave a new and sad proof of
her rare sagaciousness.
She who is faithful in the domestic walk, enjoys singular opportunities
for the exercise of Gratitude. Not only may she, by her assiduous
attentions, partially requite a mother's services, but she can thus
express her grateful sense of the superior elevation now allotted her
sex. At the table and the fireside she may cause man to bear witness to,
and rejoice in, the use she is making of her increased privileges. Here
may she describe, in Christian colors, the much sought "line of beauty."
Our country has done for her what Greece and Rome proudly denied her
sex. It has conferred on her the blessings of education, equality of
companionship with man, new means of benevolence, and the pledge of new
spheres of action, so far as nature qualifies her, and the paramount
claims of undeniable duty shall permit. What returns shall she make? Her
country asks but one. Fresh zeal in self-tuition and in training those
subject to her charge, for domestic fidelity, for true citizenship, and
for immortal virtue and blessedness.
Another moral aspect of home, to be regarded by woman, is that it
affords room for the practice of habitual Disinterestedness. A selfish
man is an object of painful contemplation. How much more is this defect
to be deplored in woman. She, whose nature, so ardent and susceptible,
prompts to an almost instinctive kindness, cannot fail in this quality,
without shedding a blight on her entire character.
But designate a female insulated by circumstances from the usual family
connections, uninterested in domestic duties, and how often do you see
one destitute of sympathy and an expansive benevolence. Elizabeth of
England had no love of home; and what do we hear of her? That she had a
lion-like port; but woman-like, Christian-like, humane, she certainly
was not. She passed through life, it is said, without a single friend.
She who performs the domestic duties aright, will find time for, as she
must have calls and incentives to, Charitable services. The Sunday
school is a sphere in which her fireside virtues prepare her to
instruct. Teaching in general accords beautifully with the inspirations
of home. Every female should be an intellectual and moral guardian to
some portion of the young around her. In bestowing of her substance, and
especially of her personal attentions, on the sick and the poor, she
will find all she has done of good at home an invaluable prompter and
aid. For the sake, therefore, of others, as a social and responsible
being, let the flame she would support on the public altar be kindled
from the vestal fire of the domestic one.
Again, what purity would it infuse into her Friendships, did the young
maiden love first and serve best her own kindred. Let her deep
affections be developed by fireside fidelity, and how may she expend, of
these heart-gathered riches, on the friends she is making of her own
sex. What a pledge has she given too of constancy in every new relation
she may form.
Piety at home is friendly to that Quietness which is the "work of
righteousness, and its effect" also. She is the true gentlewoman, who
nurtures most faithfully in herself the calm virtues of the domestic
walk. Heaven is a tranquil abode; let the soul be attuned for its
harmonies by the quiet measures of fireside melody.
I close by saying, that in the family we may best cultivate a Christian
Spirituality. There may self-communion be enjoyed. There too can we
indulge in the perusal of those writings, which invigorate our faith,
and give a firmer tone to our religious sentiments and our moral
principles and habits. Be frugal of your moments, and each day you will
redeem the hour for this duty, which God and the future demand. Commune
habitually with that Being, whose countenance beams brightly on our
dwellings. It is morning; trust not yourself to the trials and
temptations before you, without commending yourself to your Immortal
Guardian. It is evening; enter the sanctuary of the Holiest,
"And take the thought of this calm vesper time,
With its low murmuring sounds and silvery light,
On through the dark days fading from their prime,
As a sweet dew to keep your soul from blight."
To all your literary acquisitions, and to every accomplishment, as a
relative and a friend, add piety at home. That shall be an ornament of
grace to thy neck. If God prosper your domestic ties, piety will give
fresh zest to every homefelt joy. And should He call you to those
trials, disappointments, and sorrows, of which, when they come on a
household, woman must drink the dregs of the cup, how will you sustain
them, without the love of God in your heart? Make Him your early trust,
and He will gild the darkest cloud, with a ray of that mercy, which
falls never so welcome as on the stricken heart.
"Earth may forsake--oh! happy to have given,
The unbroken heart's first fragance unto Heaven."