The Young Maiden Part 12

But, it will be asked, if a lady is never to change her mind in relation to a gentleman; if she must always love where her affections have been once placed, and have no power of breaking off an engagement.

This I do not contend. There are, doubtless, cases, where one is not only permitted, but bound, to dismiss a suitor. If he have intentionally deceived her in respect to any circ.u.mstances, which he well knew would have prevented her consenting to an engagement, had they been disclosed, she ought, at once to refuse any further intimacy with him. Or, if his character change decidedly for the worse, during their acquaintance, if he become a disbeliever in religion, or a known profligate, let her immediately dismiss him.

If on the other hand, he be merely visited with misfortune, by adversities, to be traced clearly to the hand of Providence, then should she not, for a moment, cherish the desire to dissolve their engagement.

A n.o.ble instance of moral principle, as well as true love, under a change of circ.u.mstances, occurred in England but a few years since.

Sir Robert Barclay, who commanded the British squadron in the battle of Lake Erie, was horribly mutilated by the wounds he received in that action, having lost his right arm and one of his legs. Previously to his leaving England, he was engaged to a young lady, to whom he was tenderly attached. Feeling acutely, on his return, that he was a mere wreck, he sent a friend to the lady, informing her of his mutilated condition, and generously offering to release her from her engagement. "Tell him,"

replied the n.o.ble girl, "that I will joyfully marry him, if he has only enough of body left to hold his soul." This is marrying for the gem, and not for the casket. It is true constancy.

I would not have a young woman insensible to any fault in her lover.

Many persist in being blind to the least moral blemish in the loved. We are told that the lamented Mrs. Hemans was a victim to a pa.s.sion of this nature. She was warned by her friends of the unsuitableness and dangers of her intended connection. Yet neither this admonition, nor a three years' separation from her lover, could quench her affection for him.

The soldier and hero of her glowing imagination had power to captivate, and then ruin, her n.o.ble spirit.

When a dismission becomes inevitable, let it be given with decision, yet kindly. Never should the event be made matter of public remark, nor should a letter or line of the former correspondence be rudely exposed.

Let oblivion rest on the whole transaction. But so painful an issue should, if possible, be averted. For no freak of fancy, still less for the gibes and jests of others, should so important a connection be frustrated. The cause should be one that sober judgment will approve, to your latest day.

A most trying lot is hers, who is deserted by one, who had given a solemn pledge to be hers through life. It is no credit to steel one's self against the sorrows of such a lot. There are those, who would well nigh offer their life to gain a lover, and yet could think of a faithless one only with emotions of indignation or anger. Such can possess but an apparent affection. I speak of that which is true and deep. When this is thus wounded, let the sufferer preserve a calm temper, if possible, a calm exterior always, and turn from human faithlessness to that Love which is a perennial fountain.

As regards the Preparation to be made for marriage, where it is contemplated with fair prospects of certainty, little need here be said.

The whole previous life should be one act of preparation. The school-room should train the wife and the mother. Fidelity to home, to parents, brothers, sisters, and all the inmates of the paternal roof, is among the best qualifications for married life. If these duties have been hitherto neglected, be a.s.sured that the marriage ceremony will do little to supply the deficiency.

The Duration of an engagement should ordinarily be brief, at least, not needlessly protracted. We are told that no tomb in Pere Lachaise is so often decorated with chaplets of fresh flowers as that of Abelard and Heloise. This shows how large is the number of thwarted and disappointed lovers who visit that cemetery. Not a few of these crossing elements would be averted by less prolonged engagements. There are those, I am aware, who maintain that early and long continued engagements are desirable. Applied to those cases where the parties reside near one another, and are placed under similar influences, this doctrine may be true. The earliest attachments are sometimes most happy and permanent.

But how often does it occur, that the condition and character of two individuals become completely changed, in a few short years. Suppose a young man to leave a farm, and take up his abode in a city, as a merchant, or to commence a course of study with a view to a liberal profession. The girl, who, as a child, won his affections, has not, as a young woman, improved in her tastes, and character, like himself. His choice of a companion, if now to be made, would fall on one quite unlike her. There is something of this evil often attendant on protracted engagements. The affections may be biased by enlarged intercourse with the world. There are innumerable perils that beset a long acquaintance of this nature. The safe avoiding of them all comes usually from short engagements, from those in which the character and tastes of the parties are much the same at marriage as at the moment of the first decided intimacy.

There is one topic more which I cannot pa.s.s over in this connection. It is that of Spiritual Sympathy. How many are there, who never exchange one thought or feeling upon religion, until after their marriage. It is not until they are constrained to do it, in the bitterness of bereavement perhaps, that they communicate with one another on this momentous subject. Were it not wiser to weave a chaplet early, to their joint remembrance of Christ, rather than hang the first consecrated wreath on the tomb? How would it a.s.suage their mingling tears, could they sorrow, "not as those without hope," but in the long cherished spirit of a common faith and submission. They are musing on future joys.

With what heightened charms and new antic.i.p.ations would they enter the marriage state, if they had pledged their united hearts, before the Eternal One. They would then feel, that the bond which joined them was not one of a few fleeting years, but imperishable as their cemented souls. Shall they, can they, maintain a midnight silence upon all Heavenly themes, until "the evil days" overtake them?

Chapter XIII.

TRIALS OF WOMAN; AND HER SOLACE.

An ancient example. Trials springing from Physical Const.i.tution.

Acute Feelings. Sentiment of Burns. Trials from Imagination. An affecting incident. Want of Interesting Objects. Defencelessness in Public. Sufferings through Affections. Instance of true love.

Trials of Domestic Life. Bereavement. Mrs. Sigourney, on a lost Daughter. Supports should be equal to Trials. Need of Mental Culture. Moral Developement. Friends.h.i.+p. Piety the great Solace.

It was remarked by an observing and wise statesman, recently deceased, that "most women are either formed in the school, or tried by the test, of adversity." In this cla.s.s stood the devout Hannah of old. She was reproached and persecuted by her haughty rival, she was the subject of remonstrance with her husband, and when she went to the temple of G.o.d, to seek peace in her troubles, because she spake not aloud, but only her lips moved, she was rudely charged with the vice of intemperance. To this allegation she replied, "I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit: I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but have poured out my soul before the Lord." These words remind us of the trials of woman; and they point us, at the same time, to her only, and effectual, Solace in trouble.

Human life contains much to try the spirits of all. There are many afflictions, which man must share alike with woman. But, superadded to these, are sources and occasions of sorrow peculiar to her s.e.x. There are none, who do not sometimes descend the vale of tears. The cup of bitterness is placed in the hands of all. But woman is constrained to drink it sometimes to the very dregs.

In dilating on the Trials of woman, I commence with naming, first, those which spring from her Physical Const.i.tution.

To man Providence has a.s.signed severe bodily tasks, but he has given him likewise a vigorous frame. It is the lot of woman, notwithstanding her infirmities, to sustain more physical sufferings than come usually upon him. Her nervous organization is more delicate, and her sensibility to pain must, therefore, be greater. We might cite the scenes of the sick chamber, and hours, in which she needs a martyr's fort.i.tude. But more than this, in those sufferings incident to her s.e.x, and almost universally experienced, she has trials of her firmness, energy, and patience, from which man is const.i.tutionally exempt. How many secret tears are wiped from her cheek; what untold anguish does she sometimes endure. And none the lighter is this load, from her being excluded, by her silence, from the supports of sympathy. On whom shall she cast her cares? If there are motives, which forbid the disclosure to human ears, of the sword that is cutting the bare fibre of her frame, and piercing her heart, to whom shall she go for strength?

But not the outward man, alone, or chiefly, causes the severe trials of this s.e.x. Their Feelings are acute; they are peculiarly sensitive to the circ.u.mstances, events, and influences, of this world. The winds of adversity, which to the stern spirit of man, seem but a pa.s.sing breeze, prostrate her to the earth?

"To feel and to suffer," says one of this s.e.x, "are synonymous, with woman." This may exaggerate the strict truth, and yet it is doubtless substantially correct. Some of the n.o.blest virtues of her s.e.x imply great sensibility. What gives fort.i.tude, in her case, such ill.u.s.trious merit? Her extreme susceptibility of suffering. The blow, from which the gnarled oak will rebound, shall crush the frail dahlia. Why is patience a prime grace in woman? Not only because she has such burdens laid on her spirit, but still more for the reason that she feels so keenly their weight. Whence is it that tenderness, and a reliant dependence, qualities which, in their excess, unfit man to grapple with this tough world, and are therefore censured in him, as effeminate, are her ornament and praise? Her native sensibility qualifies her for these and their kindred virtues, and without them, we deem her an apostate from her s.e.x.

It would not be too strong an expression to say, that woman _lives_ in the realm of feeling. Her life is not that outward thing, which it so often appears. Beneath a calm exterior she sometimes bears an heart full of disquietude and sorrow. Would you extend her the hand of gratulation?

Be first sure that you can discern the interior of her being. You may else admit sunbeams to a plant already scorched with heat, and demanding the waters of sympathy. Consider, too, that as are her griefs, such is her fort.i.tude. Hence, without question, we sometimes regard her as bowed and overwhelmed by some worldly casualty, who has in her soul a power of endurance, that gives her angelic strength.

We hear it affirmed that woman is naturally buoyant of spirit, that she is disposed to enjoy life, and look on its brighter aspects. Let this be conceded for truth; what does it show, in relation to her sufferings?

That poet, who wrote from his own delicate soul, tells us that

"Cords, which vibrate sweetest pleasure, Thrill the deepest notes of _woe_."

So is it, that she who feels most keenly each pulsation of joy, is alive to corresponding tones of sorrow. The obtuse may receive less positive joy from the happy events that befall them; but let us not forget that they suffer also less than the acutely sensitive. Says one of this s.e.x, of a powerful mind, and a sagacious remarker, "I have seldom met with a truly cheerful-minded, and contented woman." How should this be, unless the soul often loses its harmony, and then gives forth discordant notes, proportioned to its primitive melody? We admire the Corinthian column.

Its lightness and grace are replete with beauty. Yet, in the storms of this rude world, how often does it prove a fragile thing. The gayest smile on the fairest face preaches fearful susceptibilities of disappointment and grief.

Woman is tried moreover by her natural Imaginativeness. The superior force and activity of this trait in her character can hardly be denied.

She antic.i.p.ates, in the day of health and happiness, more coming good, than man dares expect. Fancy creates round her a world of bliss.

"Evermore her eye Is busy in the distance, shaping things That make her heart beat quick."

She dreams of golden gains, of victory, conquest, and triumph. The car of fortune bears her, amid gilded honors, with a subjugated world in her train.

Or, do gloom and despondency come over her, imagination, not content with the cloud of to-day, summons from the deep, dark piles, that are charged with storm and tempest. Let her once begin, with high credit, to borrow trouble, and the future shall be well nigh drained of its myriad sorrows. She becomes fancy-bankrupt. An incident of recent occurrence, ill.u.s.trates the transition from one to the opposite of these conditions.

A young lady was seen wandering by the banks of the Hudson, wailing, and wringing her hands for grief. She related to a spectator the occasion of this grief. A sister-in-law, to whose dwelling the death of her mother had compelled her to resort, had treated her so cruelly, that she had fled from her face, and had now no home or friend on earth. Touched with her troubles, a circle of generous spirits contributed a large sum to her relief. Such was the sudden ecstasy of her joy that she became actually frantic.

Another trial of this s.e.x springs from the want of interesting Objects of pursuits. The boy is no sooner arrived at his youth, than a world of occupations opens before him. He turns from his father's roof and gives himself to preparation for some manly calling. A thousand scenes are daily in his path. Adventure, enterprise, the collision of men, and of interests, all rush in to fill his youthful spirit. In such courses trouble stands in his way but for an hour. The agitation and turmoil of life soon sweep from his bosom even the memory of yesterday's sorrows.

Far different is the lot of the gentle girl. Her school-day tasks completed, what great object comes in their stead? She has a bounding pulse, high hopes, and ardent purposes. But whither shall they now be directed? Will she not fancy the little sphere of home quite too contracted for her feelings and exertions? In this position of the young woman, there is much of suffering, that springs from unexhausted feeling, and is wrought into acute pain. Let her beware of a morbid self-contemplation. Let her see that she do not expend on her own thoughts, desires, and feelings, that energy, which should be given to G.o.d, and her a.s.sociates in humanity. What a foe must she now guard against. How high and glorious should be that great object, that is to receive the full strength of her interest.

Woman is tried by her comparative Defencelessness in Public. She may hold opinions dear to her heart, and sound in themselves. These views may be unjustly a.s.sailed. Yet such is the sentiment of the community she inhabits, that it would degrade her, to appear as a public champion of her opinions, wrestling in the vulgar arena with man. Her character may be rudely aspersed; but who does not feel that to defend it by lifting up her voice in tumultuous a.s.semblies, or even to enter the lists with her pen, were derogatory to her s.e.x.

The law of the land may bear, in some instances, unjustly upon her. She may be deprived of natural rights. No one can deny that she did thus suffer, and was grievously oppressed, by the laws against Witchcraft, in the early history of New England. Nor is it impossible that taxation may wrong her; that divorces may separate her, without right, from her partner; that fines, imprisonment, and even capital punishment, may be visited iniquitously upon her. Still what evils, what a vast preponderance of harm, would accrue, on the whole, from her mingling in the affairs of legislation, and standing as an advocate at the bar. If man, through a spirit of despotism, of meanness, or from whatever motive, shall trench on her G.o.d-given and inalienable rights, she must commit herself to that Being, who ever judgeth righteously.

Another trial of this s.e.x is one which I descant upon, in this place, with diffidence. Yet so severe are the sufferings, that spring, directly and remotely, from the exercise of her Affections, that I could not acquit myself of true fidelity, were I silent on this topic.

By an appointment of Providence, woman is so const.i.tuted as to find her bane, or her blessing, pre-eminently in the interests of her heart. Her natural ardor, and strength of feeling, prompt her to place her affections on some object, with concentration and intensity. Nor is she exempt from that credulity, which usually accompanies an ardent temperament. Hence, the depths of her heart become often a fountain of disappointments, troubles, and sorrows. Her affections may be bestowed where they shall meet no requital. Perhaps this result was wholly unantic.i.p.ated; or, it may be, there was less self-control than might have been desired. Let the cause be of whatever description, the consequences are most trying to the female character. Man may throw off a grief thus occasioned by seeking new objects of interest. But woman must wear the iron round her very soul, and sometimes, only sits down, to weep, and sink in despondency. For such sorrow there is but one anodyne. No earthly solace can sustain a spirit thus stricken.

In the destiny of her affections woman is, to a great degree, pa.s.sive.

She has little option left her. A negative, or affirmative reply, is all that shall decide the fortunes of her happiness through life. To how many desires, crosses, and reverses of feeling, to what painful indecision, or regretted decisions, is she thus exposed. Friends may induce the receipt of attentions, where her heart cannot follow the a.s.sent of her lips. Perhaps her prospects have but a.s.sumed some certainty, when the promised hand is capriciously withdrawn. I have read the record of one, who, in the agony of a grief thus awakened, pursued the object of her regard into scenes of trouble, released him from prison, by her generous gifts, and attended him, when driven, by his guilty courses, to actual insanity. She, who thus conducts, is no summer friend. The blight of such sympathy is no ordinary calamity. Who is surprised, that untold sorrows, from this cause, should corrode the very springs of life? Disappointed affection has a melancholy tale to relate, wherever are gathered the sad subjects of mental derangement. And blessed are those n.o.ble Inst.i.tutions, which, by the power of Christianity, soothe the minds, and restore the reason, of those thus unhappily afflicted.

The trials of Domestic Life impose no light burden upon woman. Those daily cares incident to the family, are a touch-stone of her patience, a test of her disposition, and an ordeal to her temper. She has petty disquietudes, and slight annoyances, singly unimportant, yet in amount not trivial. How often is her spirit borne down, and her frame attenuated by the acc.u.mulation of these minor troubles. Like the patient in the restlessness of fever, she needs some composing potion to allay, and give peace to, her soul.

Again, the character, and deportment of each inmate in her household may present to her a trial. Self-denial must be practiced by some for the enjoyment of the remainder. How often does the lot fall upon her. The reputation of each near relative is another depository of her joys, or sorrows. Should he, whose position calls him to cherish and care for all beneath his roof, prove unkind, and selfish, and demand every arrangement to conform to his ease and appet.i.tes, on whom will the burden of the service required, be imposed? Does he yield to temptation abroad, forsake the partner of his bosom, and give himself up to sensual and inebriating habits, there is one heart that must bleed over his sins. Honor and pride, it may be, forbid her disclosing his errors, and the fire must consume her spirit in solitude. Needs she no support in this exigency? What can the world give her, adequate to her fathomless wants?

But still heavier trials befall this s.e.x in their homes. Sickness visits the loved. By the midnight lamp, the wife bathes an husband's burning brow; or the mother administers draughts to the parched lips of a daughter. To what fears is she then and there subject? Tediously roll the long hours. Not the body alone sinks, but the spirit at length faints. For the conviction is forced on her mind that life is endangered. Suspicion yields to apprehension; that again grows into argument. The physician shows signs of doubt; friends whisper anxieties.

Swayed for a season between hope and fear, at length, the dread certainty comes over her. She must part with this being, dear as her own life. The fatal stroke is near; the hour arrives. Gone forever from mortal eyes is she, in whom blent

"All images of comforter and friend, The fireside charmer, and the nurse of pain, Eyes to the blind, and, to the weary, wings.

What shall console"

The survivor? To whom can we commend her who thus mourns the riven tie of a mother's love? Where is the solace for the dependent, affectionate female, who weeps over the ashes of a departed parent? A sister is at her brother's grave. Pleasant was their love, and who can a.s.suage these bitter tears? The husband,--deepest of all life's bereavements,--perhaps it is he, for whom the funeral wail is now heard. What can time, and dust, and this tomb of earth, minister to her, who sits in the freshness of widowhood?

The catalogue of your trials, my friends, may seem to some already prolonged. But have I not left much unsaid? Did _you_ guide the pen, secrets of grief could be revealed, all unknown but to your s.e.x. But enough has been written to persuade the thoughtful, that suffering must be to woman a thing of fearful account. Our afflictions, it has been well said, never leave us as they found us. We are always either hardened, or improved, by the discipline of Providence. The question then with woman, what use she is making of her trials, is one of the deepest concern. She has peculiar griefs; whence can she gain strength to endure them?