Chapter VIII.

REASONS FOR MARRIAGE.

The Fear of being Single. Faith, and Moral Courage needed.

Marrying to gratify friends. "Match makers." Self-will. To leave

an Unpleasant Home. To obtain a Home. Practices in Mexico and

France. Marrying for Wealth. Offer in Texas. Personal Beauty. A

noble example. Fancy. Influence of Novels, and impure Poetry.

Flattery. Passion. Personal Bravery. Custom, in island of Borneo.

Proximity. Family Connections. Persian marriages. Marrying from

the cradle. Personal Distinction. Nobility of Naples. Tragedy in

Philadelphia. Love of Conquest and Power. Madam Gamarra of Peru.

To escape Toil and Care. Marrying to Reform. Being importuned.

From a Sense of Duty. As a Business transaction.

To attempt the enumeration of all the inducements which may lead a young

woman to marry, were perhaps a hopeless task. So complex are our motives

that it is difficult to analyze them correctly, or even to say with

confidence what was the sole motive operating on the mind in any

particular action. This difficulty is increased, where the affections

are concerned. They are too subtle and ethereal in their nature, to be

subjected to minute examination. I shall, therefore, only promise in

this chapter to endeavor, as I am able, to treat of a part of the

reasons for marriage, as they affect most persons in actual life.

At the head of these stands the fear of being Single. There is supposed

to be some latent and terrific evil in remaining unmarried. The

imagination of the girl depicts its loneliness, its desolation, the

blight it must shed on every gentle and happy emotion, the reproach it

must bring on her from her entire circle of acquaintances, and the pride

with which her more successful companions will look down upon her. These

and other features in the picture become so fearful to contemplate, that

she resolves to embrace the first opportunity to escape so awful a

dilemma. She will engage herself as soon as practicable, lest she should

outstand her day, and be left in the dread condition of an "old maid."

Hence a train of miseries.

To prevent this calamity,--for it often proves a serious one,--I would

recommend the culture of two virtues, Faith, and Moral Courage.

There is no cause for a young woman, in any ordinary circumstances, to

fear that she shall be left single. How very few are they, who deserve

the attentions of the other sex, and yet never receive any overtures for

marriage. Where the means of support are so equally distributed, and

where girls are so well trained, as they are usually in this country,

nearly every young man is married, and of course finds somewhere a

companion. Have then Faith that you will not be neglected. This will do

much to inspire that modest conduct, which attracts so powerfully the

opposite sex. It will also lead you to a course of steady preparation,

in all respects, for marriage, and thus both insure your entrance on

that state, and qualify you for its duties.

Cultivate Moral Courage. It is better to wait this year and next, and

many years, rather than, for the sake of appeasing the popular cry, to

throw yourself away on a dolt, or a villain. What consolation can it be,

when bound to such a companion for life, to reflect, that you have

escaped the odious name of an "old maid?" Better ten lives of

singleness, than a few years of that wretchedness so often occasioned by

marrying simply and solely for fear of being single.

Others marry to gratify their Friends. This world abounds in

match-makers. They are, too, of all descriptions; some true friends to

the parties concerned in their management, perhaps their parents; others

entirely indifferent in this respect; others mere busy bodies, burning

for the excitement of love affairs, for new offers, engagements, and

weddings.

As regards the agency of friends in these matters, I believe little

good ever comes of their plans and efforts. Where they succeed, there

are fearful chances that the individuals, intended to be benefitted,

will have cause to rue the consequences. It is far better to let nature

direct, or rather to leave Providence his own modes of operation,

instead of attempting to force, or urge, what should be left entirely to

the feelings, judgment, and taste, of the parties involved.

For those meddlesome creatures, who spend their days in instigating

others to love, I can only say, they will have a dark account to render

in the end. There is no more despicable character than a finished

"manoeuverer." It implies a meanness, that can pry into the corners of

others' affairs, an indolence, that neglects one's own proper business,

and a mental vacuity, and a littleness of purpose, which are the dread

of every noble mind. Beware of the impertinence of such persons. Be very

sure that you give not your hand and heart where _they_ point, instead

of following, as you ought, your own good sense, and the promptings of

affection.

There are those of an opposite description, who marry to gratify

Self-will, and to shew their independence of advisers. This is the more

dangerous error of the two. The law of the Laplanders on this subject is

not without some reason, severe though it certainly is; it is there

death to marry a girl without the consent of her friends. The instances

in which this occurs are rare; yet there are those who, through pride

and perversity, choose to be miserable in their own way rather than

happy in one proposed, or sanctioned even, by others. Young women are

sometimes disinterested in the indulgence of a passion, for they do it

to their own injury, and to the sorrow of their relatives. Because

advised to marry a particular gentleman, they set themselves in array

against him. Or, blind to those faults, which every one else discovers,

and warns them against, they commit their destiny to the actually

abandoned. I knew one of this class, who, in spite of all remonstrance,

married an intemperate man, and who went even so far as to say, after

his death, which resulted from this vice, "that she never saw her

husband intoxicated in his life."

Some marry to remove from an Unpleasant Home. They are obliged, perhaps,

to work hard for a small compensation, or for none. The mother is unkind

to them, or the father is morose. The daughter receives frequent hints

about her support, or, of her marriage being necessary to make her

"respectable" among her companions; or, the parents talk of their own

early engagement, &c. This conversation awakens a strong desire to

escape dependence upon them. Other circumstances serve to alienate a

female from the place of her birth, her town, or village, and she is

induced to sacrifice herself to any one who proffers his hand.

But is it not

"Better to bear the ills we have,

Than flee to those we know not of?"

By an ill-assorted match, a lady is placed in a situation, where, let

her have suffered as she might previously, her condition is nearly

certain to be made worse by the change. Under the parental roof, she

enjoyed much liberty; but now she is chained to one spot, and must

receive to her bosom, a being, who inflicts pangs on her spirit. The die

is cast; she is enslaved by a perpetual master. Piteous is her doom.

Many are married to obtain a Home. They desire an establishment; the

prospect of having no dwelling, which they can call "their own," fills

them with restless apprehensions. They crave some special protector, in

whom they may merge, as it were, their own being, and be thereby

released from personal responsibilities; one on whom they may lean for

the gratification of every wish and want. Like the emigrant who leaves

the tough soil of New England, for the glorious West, they imagine that

their exchange is to release them from toil, and crown them, at the

same moment, with plenty.

Such expectations are delusive. Woman was not created for this absolute

and unlimited ease. Neither single, nor married, can she subsist with

comfort to herself, except by being largely endowed with

self-dependence. As a wife, she will not be caressed and cherished in

one cloudless day, even though her husband prove the kindest of his sex.

She must do and suffer much for his sake, or the bonds of their love

will soon be as flax amid flames. If she enter the marriage state with

any other design than to devote herself to her family, to toil more,

instead of less, than she now does, either by mental or manual

exertions, or by both, let her be assured of a fearful disappointment.

She may promise herself, in a pure connection, great joy, much to

compensate her sacrifices, but a life of ease and entire freedom from

care, let her never anticipate.

There are ladies compelled, I am aware, to seek a home by matrimony,

through the influence of their parents. This may be exerted, as in

Mexico, indirectly, through solicitors and by management, or, like the

French, the parents may negotiate the marriage in person, if not in

form, yet by such methods, as to leave the daughter no alternative, but

to accept such shelter abroad as any suitor may propose to her.

Rise, I entreat you, above this servitude. There is a method, by which

you may provide an habitation for yourself. Prepare so completely to

earn your own livelihood, that no one, friend or foe, dare say of you,

"she is obliged by her helplessness to marry some one." There are

honorable avocations, and not a few either, in which every young woman

can support herself. Let all be acquainted with some of them, with one

at least. Then may they listen to overtures of marriage, with the

feeling, that, as for a home, that, they have already secured by the

skill of their own mind and hands.

Young ladies sometimes marry for Wealth. They have been educated to

regard this as the criterion of excellence. A man's "worth" is reckoned,

not in moral attainments, but in dollars and cents. He, therefore, who

is poor, is set down as beneath much consideration. From her earliest

days, the girl has, perhaps, heard her parents talk of "being

well-settled," of "a good establishment," and "a handsome property," as

the _sine qua non_ of married life. In Tartary, a young man must

purchase his bride, and if too poor to give money, he must serve her

father four or five years. If a richer rival presents himself before

the term of service expires, the first suitor is dismissed; he can claim

only wages for his work. How many parents in this civilized and

Christian land, thus sell their daughters. Give the transaction whatever

smooth name you please, it is, after all, a bargain and sale.

Legislators, it appears, sometimes openly and directly encourage this

traffic. The Congress of Texas recently offered a premium of nearly

three thousand acres of land to every woman who would marry a citizen of

Texas, who was one at the declaration of Independence.

Let me warn my female friends against this influence. Marry for riches

alone, and you will be a neglected, unhappy wife, as sure as gold is not

kindness. How many of your sex have sold their honor for paltry lucre.

Our cities contain awful testimonies to this fact. Beware of that path,

which leads in this fearful direction. Marry only a good man. Heed the

advice of Themistocles to that Athenian, who consulted him in relation

to the marriage of his daughter. She had two suitors, one a man of worth

with a small fortune, the other rich, but in low repute. "I would bestow

my daughter," said he, "upon a man without money, rather than upon money

without a man."

Never fear to form this connection with an individual of merit, though

his circumstances be humble. Poverty indeed is often the nurse of rare

virtues. It imparts energy, prudence, and industry, when rightly

regarded. I like the reply of the Irish maid, when reminded of the

extreme poverty of herself and her lover. "Sure, two people eat no more

when they're together, than they do when they're separate." And if this

were not true, there are advantages in equality of condition which often

render such alliances among the most happy ever found on earth. God will

bless those who act from principle and affection, as in all other

relations, so in the formation of the marriage tie.

Woman sometimes gives herself to Beauty of Person. She is led captive by

a fair face and an elegant exterior. These cases are less frequent than

those, in which men marry for beauty. Still, they do occur, and although

outward graces are not to be contemned more than other gifts of

Providence, yet she who bestows her hand for their sake alone is a

victim to folly. Should such be free from impure passion, they still

build their hopes on a foundation of straw. In the conflict of life, we

need, in our nearest friend, inward charms. Where these are wanting, our

lot is pitiable indeed.

There are vain men, so weak, as to pride themselves on external

attractions alone. But they are hollow-hearted. Woe to her, who commits

her happiness to one of these shells of humanity. She is trusting to a

treacherous hope. Her love, far from being pure, is that which

"dies

With beauty, which is varying every hour;

While, in chaste hearts, uninfluenced by the power

Of outward change, there blooms a deathless flower

That breathes on earth the air of paradise."

Not a few marry from Fancy alone. They are attracted toward a gentleman

by his manners and external appearance. They conceive a liking for

another, because he has a pleasant voice, or an engaging smile, or is

full of gaiety and wit. The influence of these qualities is felt by us

all; nor is it wrong to give them some weight, in forming our estimate

of one as a companion. But what are they all, if disconnected from a

praiseworthy character? She who gives her heart, for this poor price,

will sometime awake to a sense of her delusion. The imagination has an

influence, perhaps an unavoidable one, on the affections. We invest a

favorite with ideal charms, and put out of sight his faults. But in

contemplating the solemn relation of marriage, no lady should abandon

the exercise of her reason. Love, it is said, often so excites the fancy

as to call forth effusions of poetry, where they were hitherto unknown.

But woe to her, who cheats herself with the belief that the creature of

her imagination is a real being, who will not listen to the counsels of

understanding, but rushes blindly down the precipice, which, with one

open eye, she might easily have foreseen.

A recent writer, in giving advice to young ladies, speaks of "novels and

tales," and especially of the "best fictions of our day, as holding up

to view the mistakes and faults, which young persons are most likely to

commit on the subject of love and matrimony, in such a way as is likely

to prevent their repetition." With deference to one so intelligent in

her remarks on other topics, I must differ from her on this. I believe

that the reading of novels almost uniformly operates unfavorably on the

female heart. In the first place, fictitious writings are very seldom

read, except for the sake of the story. Let the author append a moral to

his book, who thinks of stopping to read that? But again, where is the

novel, which is an exact transcript of real life? There may be no one

character in a work, that is not somewhat natural. Yet are the relations

of each to all the others such as those in which we daily see people

placed? Are not the remarks of the speakers often forced and strained?

Do such loves occur in this working-day world? Are not the incidents,

and the plot in general, indebted largely to the writer's imagination,

for the effect they produce on the reader?

It is the reading of fiction and impure poetry, more than all things

else, I fear, which leads so many females to sacrifice themselves to

unprincipled and base-hearted men. Instead of consulting these works, as

a guide in marriage, let every one take counsel of her sober judgment.

When "the dreams of youth are fled," and the novel ceases to captivate,

we shall be left in a pitiable condition, if united to a being whom we

could give no good _reason_ for marrying. Fancy alone, much more a mere

whim, is a fearful agent, with whom to entrust our entire happiness for

life.

There are those who accept the hand of another, because enticed by

Flattery. The human heart is never more exposed to the poison of this

insidious foe than in the affairs of love. A lady is beautiful, and she

is praised to excess for her personal attractions. Her vanity is

soothed, and her mind is so darkened, that she sees no bad motive

whatever, and no blemish in the flatterer. "A woman," says one well

versed in our nature, "can always find a palliation for the misdeeds

which are set in motion by her own beauty." How often do we see the

faults of the flatterer, in this way, actually converted into graces.

Or a lady is but moderately well-favored, and is commended on that point

where she felt a distrust of herself. The assurance of her charms rushes

like a tide over her spirit, and she surrenders herself a victim to

blandishments. Or she may be even personally plain. The praise of some

one good feature, will then suffice, perhaps, to subdue her affections.

Is one more cultivated than her sex in general? He, who offers incense

to her intellect, may intoxicate and win. How often does this kind of

adulation succeed, where the commendation of personal attractions would

have failed. But let her, who is subjected to gross and excessive

flattery, ask her own heart, "Do I respect this individual? Has he my

sober esteem? Can I look on his character, and say it is such as to give

promise of happiness to his bosom companion?" These few questions would

often dissolve the spell. If you marry one, such as I describe above, he

may continue through the bridal month this delicious repast, but amid

growing cares, when busy and anxious, you shall soon find that the syren

voice is hushed. It will be you, who must then speak sweet words. To

you, will he turn for those kind attentions, which the habit of being

caressed and complimented, and never forgetting yourself, will have

miserably prepared you to bestow.

It requires much watchfulness to shun the contagion of an earthly

Passion, in forming the marriage tie. We should be perfectly certain

that our impulses are all pure, that it is the moral and intellectual we

prize in our friend. The spirit alone can profit us. An intemperate

woman always shocks us beyond measure. She, who lives for the pleasures

of the table, falls from the rank of her sex. All who would preserve

their integrity, must guard against every gross and low tendency, and

cultivate in their inmost soul a regard for character alone, and a

desire of spiritual acquisitions, in their partner for life.

Some are charmed by personal Bravery. It is often remarked, that the

female sex admire military characters. Being constitutionally timid, the

courage they associate with the soldier, is to them always an attractive

quality. They lean upon it fondly, for protection in their own physical

weakness. In the Island of Borneo, no man is allowed to solicit a damsel

in marriage until he has cut off the head of an enemy. To how many, in

Christian lands, is personal prowess a primary recommendation, in a

candidate for marriage.

Yet are not tenderness, fidelity, and constancy, quite as important in

a husband, as physical courage? She who gives herself for a plume or an

epaulet, or for the bravery they are thought to indicate, will learn, in

after days, that although the oak be admirable for its stoutness, there

are gentler trees one would desire in the garden of domestic love.

Many matches are made solely through the accidental Proximity of the

parties. A young lady visits a friend often, and the brother, by being

daily seen, engages her affections. Perhaps a gentleman boards in the

family of her father. The simple circumstance of her being more in his

society, than in that of others of his age, is the foundation of their

marriage. There seems almost a fatality in these cases, they so often

occur.

Now I am far from recommending a female to put on an unnatural reserve

toward those she sees thus frequently; but let her recollect, that the

mere fact of her interchanging so many thoughts and feelings with

another, predisposes both to a more intimate connection. It is better,

if the connection would be an improper one, to prevent such a

consummation, by decided conduct in the outset, than by encouragements

to induce an offer, you may feel compelled to accept. Are you much

thrown by accident into the company of a particular gentleman? Be sure

that your deportment toward him be not such as to mislead him, in regard

to your estimate of his character. Avoid every thing that shall seem to

make it a matter of course that you will marry him. Study his traits,

and look on him in all respects precisely as you would on any other

associate. Let it not be said by others that you are fated to marry a

certain person, because you are so much in his society.

A young woman is often induced to marry a man for the sake of his Family

Connections. They are, perhaps, wealthy, and have a high standing in

society, on that account. Or, they are respected for their name and

rank, as descendants of worthy ancestors. The friends deem it "a good

match;" the alliance is desirable on many accounts. Who can think of

rejecting overtures from so eligible a quarter? All this is said and

done with much the same feelings as the crowned heads of the Old World

negociate intermarriages with one another, in cold blood, and as a

business transaction. If the parties are of about equal standing, as

regards their relatives, it is called on each side, "marrying into a

good family," and what more can be desired?

Or, the lady may be raised in the world by connecting herself with a

family superior, in fortune, or rank, to her own. To this surely, it

will be said, no one can object. Were it not folly to lose so fine an

opportunity of entering a renowned circle of relations? In Persia, the

father first of all, selects a family, with whom he wishes to have his

son connected. After this, he makes inquiries about the girl's personal

endowments. Is not something very like this often done in Christian

lands? The leading question, in these cases, is, "What are the

connections?" not, as it should be, the reverse of the practice in

Persia, "Who and what is the individual particularly concerned?" The

character, the principles, the disposition and heart of him, to whom a

lady consigns her whole destiny, are thus actually put out of view, for

the sake of his family! One may see, daily, alliances between

individuals who come together evidently on account of their kindred

alone; and who, for any congruity of disposition, or fitness of traits,

might as well, like the English nobility, have been betrothed in their

cradles.

Many females marry for Personal Distinction. A gentleman is eminent in

the political world, or as an author and scholar, or in military fame,

or for skill and success in his calling; or he shines in fashionable

society. The origin of this practice may sometimes be found in early

education. The parents are ambitious of elevating their daughter by

marriage. They awaken in her hopes and expectations above her condition

in life. They teach her, by their conversation and deportment, if not

directly, that her "being's end and aim" is to rise in the world.

The cases are frequent, in which a girl is encouraged to receive the

addresses of one, who is deficient in almost every quality requisite in

a good husband, merely because he is "a great man." A writer observes

that "love is our first toy, our second, display." But here this is

completely reversed. Display is the first toy; as for love, that is an

inferior consideration. You shall see a young woman led to barter

herself to a man who is ignorant, proud, selfish, and unkind. "Let the

person," says one, "be blind, lame, deformed, diseased, severe, morose,

vicious, old, or good for nothing, if the parents can but a little

advance their daughter above the quality or condition themselves have

lived in, the poor child must be made a living sacrifice, and probably

know no more happy days after the solemnization of her nuptials." We are

told that in Naples, it is not uncommon for a nobleman of decayed

fortune, to send his daughters to a nunnery, because his means will not

enable him to educate them for marriage in the highest circles of

society. The recent tragedy enacted in the city of Philadelphia, was a

mournful illustration of the dangers of parental ambition. A father had

toiled for years, to amass wealth for the purpose of introducing his

daughter to society in England, and elevating her to a high station in

that land. She married contrary to his wishes, and in his fiend-like

disappointment, wrought up to insanity, he actually murdered the victim

of his rage, his own child. Why will parents thus attempt to coerce the

chainless affections? Why should so many females consent to marry the

objects of their aversion, nay, sometimes, of their disgust, for the

sake of a name?

Woman has been known to marry from the love of Conquest, and the desire

to rule. The female heart is susceptible of the love of power, and one

may seek, or consent to join herself to, a husband, for the sake of

having a subject, over whom continually to reign. We are told that Madam

Gamarra, the wife of the President of Peru, is a "female Bonaparte, and

though her husband is nominally the head of the republic, she is the

real sovereign." How many smaller empires exhibit the same unnatural

picture. It is in vain to say that the wife is the more capable of the

two. This by no means exonerates her from blame, who deliberately

entered the marriage state with so little respect for her companion, as

to cherish a determined purpose of lording it over him, as her

inferior.

Ambition of power is always a dangerous principle of conduct. She who

consents to marry another, without love, esteem, or respect for him, and

merely to queen it over his life, can hardly possess the Christian

temper. She is assuredly destitute of that chief grace of her sex, deep

and sincere affection. Mrs. Phelps says, on this subject, that

"Submission and obedience belong to everything in the Universe, except

the Great Master of the whole. It is a law, that support and protection

demand obedience. Hence, the child is bound to yield this tribute to its

parent, and the people to the laws, and the wife to the husband." This

doctrine, although advanced by a female, is likely to meet with some

remonstrance at this day. Yet surely, none will contend that the reverse

of it, is a true one, that, contrary to the affirmation of Scripture,

"the woman is the head of the man." Let the maiden turn from such

thoughts in her earliest days.

"Now let a true ambition rise,

And ardor fire her breast,

To reign in worlds above the skies,

In Heavenly glories drest."

Some ladies exchange their single condition, in the hope of escaping

thereby the Toils and Cares of life. They picture to themselves the

felicity of having one constantly devoted to the supply of their wants,

and waiting to gratify their every wish. This looks all exceedingly

captivating, in prospect. They expect from their friend not only the

same attentions as he rendered during their engagement, but an increased

service, from his being ever near them and having nothing but their

happiness to occupy him.

But can a lady anticipate these rivers of ease and pleasure, without

securing the respect of her husband? No one, who reflects for a moment

on the future, can do this. Does our friend expect the idolatry of her

husband? She must recollect that "No respect,"--and, of course, no

love,--"is lasting, but that which is produced by our being in some

degree useful to those who pay it." No age ever erected altars to gods

destitute of good qualities. She, who would be worshipped in the heart

of her bosom companion, can secure this homage only by deserving it

through exertion. Married life must be one of care and toil. Let no

female delude herself by imagining it to be otherwise. It brings, where

hearts are wedded, as well as hands, joys and supports far more than

sufficient to lighten its burdens. But burdens let none think to shun in

it.

Instances are not wanting, in which woman has given herself to a

vicious companion, in the belief that she could reform him. The stage

has often produced dramas, in which the hero, after a long course of

conduct utterly inconsistent with matrimonial happiness, has at length

been suddenly converted to the ways of virtue. Hence the false and

pernicious maxim, that "a reformed rake makes the best husband." But in

real life, it will be found that instantaneous changes, occurring on the

eve of marriage, are usually adopted for the sake of appearances, and

endure only so long as policy requires.

Dr. Dwight observes well on this point, that "nothing but folly can lead

us to expect that this institution can change the whole nature of those

who enter into it; and like a magical spell, confer knowledge, virtue,

and loveliness, upon beings who have neither." She who marries a man,

that is addicted to immoral practices, incurs fearful hazards. Not only

does she risk her personal happiness, from his vicious conduct, but she

exposes her own character. Who can tell that, instead of being reformed

by her, the husband may not entice her into his own sins, or into those

equally ruinous? Will she calmly commit herself to the talons of the

vulture, in the hope of taming his ferocity, and changing entirely his

habits? The experiment is one which no woman of ordinary prudence will

try.

The temptation I allude to is likely to be presented to many of this

sex, especially in populous places, where the vices cluster. Had I a

friend thus exposed, I would entreat her to beware of looking with the

least partiality on a profligate, or an unprincipled man. "Let him be a

very courtier, for his grace and agreeableness in conversation," I would

say to her, "be not you ensnared by his tongue." By a strange paradox,

the worst men sometimes fancy and select pious females for their wives.

I do not deny that cases occur, in which the unbelieving husband is

sanctified by the believing wife. But if gross sins be added to a want

of religious faith, I contend that no woman is justified in forming this

connection. Should she detect such traits and practices in her lover, on

the eve of their marriage, she is bound to dismiss him. God will provide

a lamb, if we come boldly to the altar, and keep not back our dearest

affection.

Some females have consented to bestow their hand, without a gift of the

heart, upon one who importuned them by ceaseless addresses. They did not

love, nor could they, where consent to marriage was yielded with such

reluctance. Perhaps some considerable aversion to the union was

expressed, but it was at length abandoned, as they thought, from

necessity. "I am fated," such an one will say, "to marry a person I

cannot love, and so it must be." We have known many instances, in which

it was paradoxically asserted, that the lady "married a certain

gentleman to get rid of him."

The sentiment of compassion, has a large share in some of these cases. A

suitor relates his troubles again and again; his happiness will he

forever blighted; he shall even sicken and die, if rejected. Desdemona

listens to the story:

"'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful;

She wished she had not heard it."

But alas, from pitying, the steps are few to "embracing." To relieve

such sufferings, a lady resigns her every prospect of peace and comfort.

How many, indeed, after once rejecting a suitor, are moved by his

renewed entreaties, to sacrifice themselves, merely to assuage his

flowing tears. They think it a duty, it may be, to forego every hope of

happiness, to fly in the face of certain evil and woe, rather than see

one so pained by a refusal.

Benevolence deserves commendation in all cases. Yet not always is it the

result of sound judgment, or the demand of duty to marry one, because

importuned to that step. He, who waits at your feet and implores

acceptance, might not be so miserable after all, as he and you imagine,

should you decline his overtures. In the cares of a busy world, he may

find a draught of the waters of Lethe. His affections,--if it be a pure

and deep love that impels him, and not insanity or mental

intoxication,--may be turned into other channels, and the remnant of his

life prove, after all, an endurable evil. He may be directed to a

companion, who will render his lot far more agreeable than it could be,

had you, with the feelings under which you separated, been his wife.

Besides, the instances are very rare in which a female is required, for

the gratification of an importunate lover, to do what she feels must be

suicidal to her own peace. As a Christian, she is bound to love others

as herself, if you please, even as much as herself; but not more. If she

offer up all her self-love, and take a course intended exclusively for

the gratification of another, does she not go then beyond the gospel

command? There are cases in which this may be a duty, but let a young

woman ponder long and seriously, before concluding that hers is of that

number. It may call for great energy to withstand importunities. She may

sometimes feel that her resolution must give way; but let her consider

the future, a whole life of aversion from one ever at her side, and if

this seem her inevitable doom, did she now marry, she will remain firm

in her purpose to the last.

Nearly related to the class just described, are those who marry under

the impression that it is their Duty to form this connection with some

one. Public opinion demands it, as a matter of course; their parents

have always conducted, as if this was their view of the subject, and the

daughter conscientiously believes that she must conform to it. Now, if

what I have hitherto said is correct, there is no such thing as an

unconditional obligation to marry. It is a duty only when circumstances

favor it. If there be decided objections against the character of the

one, or the many, who may have made overtures of marriage to a young

lady, it has never yet become her duty to marry. On the contrary, she is

solemnly bound still to remain single, to wait until Providence

indicates to her a prospect of so changing her situation, as to enhance

her usefulness and happiness.

Marriage is regarded too often as a Business transaction. It is entered

upon for prudential reasons alone; the heart is not interested, nor, of

course, given at the altar. In our country, where all things take the

form of traffic, there is especial danger that the most sacred bond

which man can form, will bear a mercantile aspect, by being rudely

exposed in the market place. Let prudence have her office in this

matter, but let it always be subordinate to a higher principle.

Affection should prompt and impel; discretion ought only to act as a

guide, a light, and counsellor, never as an originator and master, in

matrimonial concerns. There is a wide chasm between imprudence and

rashness in this transaction, and a Stoical sale of the hand, while the

heart is kept back.

Some marry from Gratitude. They have received pecuniary aid from

another; or they have been assisted by him in sickness; or he was their

friend in their afflictions or troubles. But can they not express their

gratitude otherwise than by marriage? If the single act, or few acts, of

past favor, deserving though they be in themselves, constitute his sole

claim to their hand and heart, let them be slow in the gift.

The Young Maiden · 第 8 / 14 章