Chapter XII: Part 12

Dress, to be in perfect taste, need not be costly. It is to be regretted that in this age too much attention is paid to dress by those who have neither the excuse of ample means nor of social culture. The wife of a poorly paid clerk or of a young man just starting in business aims at dressing as stylishly as does the wealthiest among her acquaintances. Consistency in regard to station and fortune is the first matter to be considered. A woman of good sense will not wish to expend in unnecessary extravagance money wrung from an anxious husband; or, if her husband be a man of fortune, she will not even then encroach upon her allowance. In the early years of married life, when the income is moderate, it should be the pride of a woman to see how little she can spend upon her dress and yet present that tasteful and creditable appearance which is desirable.

The dress of a gentleman never appears more creditable than when characterized by simplicity. A gentleman's taste in dress is shown in the avoidance of all extravagance. A man of wit may sometimes be a coxcomb, but a man of judgment and sense never can be. A beau dressed out is like a cinnamon tree—the bark is worth more than the body. A dandy is said to be the mercer's friend, the tailor's fool, and his own foe. There are a thousand fops made by art for one fool made by nature.

To judge from the actions of many of our young men one would suppose that dress was their highest aim in life. Elegance of attire is, indeed, well, and, when suitable to the surroundings, bespeaks the gentleman. But men of sterling worth and character are apt to have a feeling of contempt for the one who, by his faultless attire and spruce manner, conclusively shows that he is actuated by a dandy's view of life. A coat that has the mark of use upon it is a recommendation to people of sense, and a hat with too much nap and too high a luster a derogatory circumstance. The best coats in our streets are worn on the backs of penniless fops, broken-down merchants, clerks with pitiful salaries, and men that do not pay up.

Dandies and fops are like a body without soul, powder without ball, lightning without thunderbolt, paint on sand. There is much of this in the world. We see it exemplified in every thing considered valuable. The counterfeiter gives the show of gold to his base coin, and the show of value to his lying bank note. The thief hangs out the appearance of honesty in his face, and the liar is thunderstruck if any body suspects him of equivocation. The bankrupt carries about with him the appearance of wealth. The fop puts on the masquerade of dignity and importance. The poor belle, whose mother washes to buy her plumes, outshines the peeress of the court. Many a table steams with costly viands for which the last cent was paid; and many a coat, sleek and black, is worn on the street on which the tailor has a moral mortgage.

In the matter of dress, then, when we sum it all up, we find that the love of dress is inherent in all true men and women, and that it would be as unwise as it would be useless to strive against it; that, while no man or woman should allow themselves to become a slave to dress and fashion, still it is no less a duty than it is a privilege to cultivate this love of adornment, ever keeping it within due bounds, remembering that outward adornment should be but secondary to the adornment of the soul with all noble and great qualities.

We may admire proofs of hardiness and assurance, but we involuntarily attach ourselves to simplicity and gentleness. Gentleness is like the silent influence of light, which gives color to all nature. It is far more powerful than loudness or force, and far more beautiful. It pushes its way silently and persistently, like the tiniest daffodil in Spring, which raises the clod and thrusts it aside by the simple persistence of growing.

It is to be feared that in this stirring age, when we enumerate the elements of success, that we do not lay stress enough on the milder virtues of simplicity and gentleness. While fond of applauding the hardier virtues of energy, self-reliance, perseverance, and others of a similar nature, we are in danger of losing sight of the fact that ofttimes an exhibition of gentleness and courtesy is not only extremely pleasing in itself, but is not infrequently one of the most expeditious and efficacious modes of advancing present interests.

It is singular what power gentleness and courtesy bestows on him who practices them. The most boisterous winds only cause the traveler to wrap his cloak the closer to him, while the gentle rays of the sun speedily induce him to discard it. And thus it is with many of the pursuits of life, where sheer force of intellect or intensity of application would ofttimes end only in a failure of plans and purposes, gentleness, by its silent but powerful influence, will not only excite a feeling of good will in the minds of others, but as oil removes friction from a machine and causes it to move smoothly, so will gentleness remove apparently insurmountable objects from the pathway of our success.

Gentleness belongs to virtue, and is to be carefully distinguished from the spirit of cowardice or the fawning assents of sycophants. It removes no just right from fear; it gives no important truth to flattery; it is, indeed, not only consistent with a firm mind, but it necessarily requires a manly spirit and a fixed principle in order to give it any real value. An able man shows his spirit by gentle words but resolute actions. How often experience convinces us that a bold and brazen loudness of tones and roughness of manner cover only a vacillating spirit and irresolute actions! And on the other hand, do not history and observation show that quietness and gentleness ofttimes mark the most determined of actions? The rarest bravery of all in the world is found actively engaged accompanied by an exhibition of gentleness. And ought we not so to expect it? The person moved by a spirit of gentleness throws all the energy of his nature into action. It is not allowed to waste in boisterousness, but is guided and directed in the most appropriate channels by an understanding calm and collected.

In the captain of a canal-boat we generally expect gruffness of manner, loudness of tones, and a general lack of refinement, dignity, and gentleness; but in the commander of an ocean steamer we shall always find the quietness, gentleness, and dignity that we all recognize as such a proper accompaniment of power. So true it is that gentleness of manner is the most appropriate and general expression of true greatness and worth that we use the expression "a gentle man" to express the highest type of worth in man.

In the mechanical world do we not always find that the greater the exhibition of power the steadier and quieter the movement becomes? It is the rickety engine of but few horse-powers that goes with a fizz and a clatter, while the massive engine that supplies the motive power for acres of machinery goes almost noiselessly; and the sublimest exhibition of power in the universe—the movement of the heavenly bodies—proceeds in absolute quiet. We observe the same effect in the moral world; the master minds who have moved kingdoms and swayed the thoughts of millions are uniformly gentle and dignified in their bearings. The loud-tongued and clatter-brained fanatics merely cause a movement in their immediate vicinity.

There is a magic power in gentle words, the potency of which but few natures are so icy as to wholly resist. Would you have your home a cheerful, hallowed spot, within which may be found that happiness and peace which the world denies to its votaries? Let not loud, harsh words be uttered within its walls. Let only gentle, quiet actions there be found. Speak gently to the wearied husband, who, with anxious brow, returns from the perplexities of his daily avocations; and let him, in his turn, speak gently to the care-worn woman and wife, who, amid her never-ending round of little duties, finds rest and encouragement in the sympathy of him she loves. Speak gently to the wayward child. A pleasant smile and a word of kindness will often restore good humor and playfulness. Human nature is the same with it. It has its joys and sorrows as well as those of mature growth, and its little heart will quickly yield to the power of gentle, loving kindness.

Hearts of children are, after all, much like flowers; they remain open to the softly falling dew, but shut up in the violent downfalls of rain. Therefore, when you have occasion to rebuke children, be careful to do it with manifest kindness and gentleness. The effect will be incalculably better. Speak gently to the dependent who lightens your daily toil; kind words insure respect and affection, while the angry rebuke provokes impertinence and dislike. Speak gently to the aged ones; many are the trials through which they have passed, and now, in a little while, they will be missed from their accustomed places—the spirit will have passed to its rest. The remembrance of an unkind word will then bring with it a bitter sting. Speak gently to the erring one; are we not all weak and liable to err? Temptation, of which we can not judge, may have surrounded him. Harshness will drive him on the sinful way; gentleness may win him back to virtue.

True gentleness is founded on a sense of what we owe to Him who made us, and to the common nature of which we all share. It arises from reflection on our own failings and wants, and from just views of the condition and duty of man. It is native feelings, heightened and improved by principle. It is not deficient in a sense of true worth and dignity, but it recognizes in all men the possessors of infinite possibilities, even the possibilities of eternal life; and it treats them as brethren. It summons to its highest and best form of expression all that is noble in manhood, inspiring in purpose, grand in aim, and walks proudly therein; humbly, yet with an air of conscious dignity; quietly, yet with the insignia of power.

Since, then, true gentleness is thus significant of power, thus potential for good, and is the high and distinctive test of a gentleman, ought not all the young earnestly strive to learn that spirit of self-control, and accustom themselves to speak and act gently at all times, and, by so doing, to act as becomes a man and responsible being?

It has been remarked that the modest deportment of really wise men, when contrasted to the assuming air of the vain and ignorant, may be compared to the difference of wheat, which, while its ear is empty, holds up its head proudly, but as soon as it is filled with grain bends modestly down and withdraws from observation. Thus with true worth and merit: it is uniformly modest in deportment. It is only the shallow-pated who strive to attract attention by pretentious claims. The ocean depths are mute; it is only along shallow shores that the roar of the breakers is heard.

It is not difficult to draw the line between self-reliance and modesty on the one hand, and self-esteem and arrogant pretensions on the other. True self-reliance does not call on all men to witness its exploits. It displays itself in action. It may be reserved in deportment, but quietly and modestly proceeds in the path that wisdom points out, with a steady reliance on its own powers. Not so self-esteem. Its boast is that it is sufficient for all things; which, to be sure, were not so bad, were it not for the fact that, when put to the test by necessity, it so quickly abandons its pretentious claims, and, forgetting to use its own powers, is anxious only for the aid of others.

Modesty is a beautiful setting to the diamond of talents and genius. The mark of the truly successful man is absence of pretensions. He talks in only ordinary business style, avoids all brag, dresses plainly, promises not at all, performs much, speaks monosyllables, hugs his fact. He calls his employment by its lowest name, and so takes from evil tongues their sharpest weapon. Who made more wide and sweeping discoveries, of more far-reaching consequences, than Newton? Yet listen to his modest confession: "I know not what the world may think of my labors, but to myself it seems as though I had been but a child playing on the seashore, now finding some pebble rather more polished, and now some shell rather more agreeably variegated than another, while the immense ocean of truth extended itself unexplored before me." Thus it is always found that modesty accompanies great merit, and it has even been said that merit without modesty is generally insolent in expression.

The greatest events in the world's history dawned with no more noise than the morning star makes in rising. All great developments complete themselves in the world, and modestly wait in silence, praising themselves never, and announcing themselves not at all. If "honesty be the best policy," we can not deny that modesty, as a matter of policy even, hath a rare virtue. What so quickly commands our good wishes as modesty struggling under discouragement? what our sympathy more than modesty struck down by affliction? or what our respect and love more than modesty ministering to the distresses of others? There is no surer passport to the favors of others than modesty of deportment. It will succeed where all else has failed to waken in the minds of others an interest in our affairs. It is to merit as shades to figures in a picture, giving it strength and beauty.

Modesty is not bashfulness, though the two are often confounded. The bashfulness of timidity is constitutional, the bashfulness of credulity is pitiable, the bashfulness of ignorance is disreputable, but the bashfulness allied to modesty is a charm. There are two distinct sorts of bashfulness. The one is awkwardness joined to pride, which, on a further acquaintance with the world, will be converted into the pertness of a coxcomb. The other is closely allied to modesty. It is a painful consciousness of self, which is produced by our most delicate feelings, and which the most extensive knowledge can not always remove. In undermining and removing bashfulness, due regard is to be had to the adjacent modesty, good nature, and humanity, as those who pull down private houses adjoining imposing buildings are careful to prop up such parts as are endangered by the removal.

Bashfulness in itself can not be admired. It completely distrusts its own powers, whereas we have seen that a proper reliance on self is at all times highly commendable. Bashfulness in man is never to be allowed as a good quality, but a weakness, inasmuch as it suppresses his virtues and hides them from the world, when, had he a mind to exert himself, he might accomplish much good. We doubt not but there are many fine intellects passing for naught by reason of their bashfulness.

Modesty is far different from reserve. Reserve partakes more of the nature of sullen pride. It is haughty in demeanor, and hath not the sweet, retiring disposition of modesty. A reserved man is in continual conflict with the social part of his nature, and even grudges himself the laugh into which he is sometimes betrayed. The modest man does not refuse to perform his part socially. His only dread is that others may think he is trying to center attention on himself. The really modest man may be the most social of men. The reserved man thinks it is beneath him to mingle with the mass of the people.

Modesty never counsels real merit to conceal itself. It never bids one refuse to act when action is necessary, and the person is conscious that his powers are adequate for the performance of the task. Nor when a good deed is to be done should the modest man hesitate to come forward to do it, providing he is capable of so doing. Modesty counsels none to be backwards where duty points the way; but modesty strictly forbids that when a good or meritorious action is done that the performer should spread abroad the story of his doings. Leave that for others to do.

Modesty is the crowning ornament of womanly beauty, and the honor of manly powers. It alike becomes every age, giving new grace to youthful figures, and imparting a pleasing virtue to years. It softens the asperities of poverty and is a beautiful setting for wealth and fortune. It gives additional charms to the possessor of genius and talents, or cunningly conceals the want of the same. It is the key that unlocks alike the gate to success or the door of love and respect. It makes life pleasant to the one who exercises the virtue, and charities bestowed by its hand are worth far more to the recipient than their mere pecuniary value.

"Life without love! Oh, it would be
A world without a sun—
Cold as the snow-capped mountain, dark
As myriad nights in one;
A barren scene, without one spot
Amidst the waste,
Without one blossom of delight,
Of feeling, or of taste!"

Love in one form or another is the ruling element in life. It is the primary source from whence springs all that possesses any real value to man. It may be the love of dominion or power which, though utterly selfish in its aims and methods, has been most marvelously overruled for good in the world's history. It may be the love of knowledge, in the pursuit of which lives have been lost and fortunes spent; but grand secrets have been wrung from nature—secrets which have contributed much for the advancement of human interests. But the love grander than any other, before which all the other elements of civilization pale and dwarf to utter insignificance, which is as powerful to-day as in the morning of time, which will continue to rule until time is ended, is that indefinable, indescribable, ever fresh and beautiful love betwixt man and woman—that love which has the power to tame the savage's heart; which finds man rough, uncultivated, and selfish; which leaves him a refined and courteous gentleman; which transforms the timid, bashful girl to the woman of matchless power for good.

Love is an actual need, an urgent requirement of the heart. Every properly constituted human being who entertains an appreciation of loneliness and wretchedness, and looks forward to happiness and content, feels a necessity of loving. Without it life is unfinished and hope is without aim, nature is defective and man miserable; nor does he come to comprehend the end and glory of existence until he has experienced the fullness of a love that actualizes all indefinite cravings and expectations. Love is the great instrument of nature, the bond and cement of society, the spirit and spring of the universe. It is such an affection as can not so properly be said to be in the soul as the soul to be in that. It is the whole nature wrapped up in one desire. Love is the sun of life, most beautiful in the morning and evening, but warmest and steadiest at noon.

Love blends young hearts in blissful unity, and for the time so ignores past ties and affections as to make a willing separation of the son from his father's house, and the daughter from all the sweet endearments of her childhood's home, to go out together and rear for themselves an altar, around which shall cluster all the cares and delights, the anxieties and sympathies of the family relationship. This love, if pure, unselfish, and discreet, constitutes the chief usefulness and happiness of human life. Without it there would be no organized households, and, consequently, none of that earnest endeavor for a competence and respectability, which is the mainspring to human efforts, none of those sweet, softening, restraining, and elevating influences of domestic life, which can alone fill the earth with the happy influences of refinement.

Love, it has been said, in the common acceptance of the term is folly; but love in its purity, its loftiness, its unselfishness is not only a consequence, but a proof of our moral excellence. The sensibility to moral beauty, the forgetfulness of self in the admiration engendered by it, all prove its claim to a high moral influence. It is the triumph of the unselfish over the selfish part of our nature. No man and no woman can be regarded as complete in their experience of life until they have been subdued into union with the world through their affections. As woman is not woman until she has known love, neither is man a complete man. Both are requisite to each other's completeness.

Love is the weapon which Omnipotence reserved to conquer rebel man when all the rest had failed. Reason he parries; fear he answers blow to blow; future interests he meets with present pleasure; but love, that sun against whose melting beams Winter can not stand, that soft, subduing slumber which brings down the giant, there is not one human soul in a million, not a thousand men in all earth's domain whose earthly hearts are hardened against love. There needs no other proof that happiness is the most wholesome moral atmosphere, and that in which the morality of man is destined ultimately to thrive, than the elevation of soul, the religious aspirations which attend the first assurance, the first sober certainty of true love.

Love is the perpetual melody of humanity. It sheds its effulgence upon youth, and throws a halo around age. It glorifies the present by the light it casts backward, and it lightens the future by the gleams sent forward. The love which is the outcome of esteem has the most elevating and purifying effect on the character. It tends to emancipate one from the slavery of self. It is altogether unsordid; itself is the only price. It inspires gentleness, sympathy, mutual faith, and confidence. True love also in a manner elevates the intellect. "All love renders wise in a degree," says the poet Browning, and the most gifted minds have been the truest lovers. Great souls make all affections great; they elevate and consecrate all true delights. Love even brings to light qualities before lying dormant and unsuspected. It elevates the aspirations, expands the soul, and stimulates the mental powers.

It were fitting that the nature of this affection, which has such power for good or ill, be thoroughly understood, and endeavors made to guide it in right channels. For love, as it is of the first enjoyment, so it is frequently of the deepest distress. If it is placed upon an unworthy object, and the discovery is made too late, the heart can never know peace. Every hour increases the torments of reflection, and hope, that soothes the severest ills, is here turned into deep despair. But, strange to say, though it is one of universal and engrossing interest to humanity, the moralist avoids it, the educator shuns it, and parents taboo it. It is considered almost indelicate to refer to love as between the sexes, and young persons are left to gather their only notions of it from the impossible love stories that fill the shelves of circulating libraries. This strong and absorbing feeling, which nature has for wise purposes made so strong in woman that it colors her whole life and history, though it may form but an episode in the life of man, is usually left to follow its own inclination, and to grow up for the most part unchecked, without any guidance or direction whatever.

Although nature spurns all formal rules and directions in affairs of love; though love triumphs over reason, resists all persuasion, and scorns every dictate of philosophy; and though, like a fabled tree or plant, it may be cut down at night, but ere morning it will be found to have sprouted up again in renewed freshness and beauty, with its leaves and branches re-expanded to the air and laden with blossoms and fruits; still, at all events, it were best to instill in young minds such views of character as should enable them to discriminate between the true and the false, and to accustom them to hold in esteem those qualities of moral purity and integrity without which life is but a scene of folly and misery. It may not be possible to teach young people to love wisely, but they may at least be guarded by parental advice against the frivolous and despicable passions which so often usurp its name.

Genuine love is founded on esteem and respect. You can not long love one for whom you have not these feelings. The most beautiful may be the most admired and caressed, but they are not always the most esteemed and loved. We discover great beauty in those who are not beautiful, if they possess genuine truthfulness, simplicity, and sincerity. No deformity is present where vanity and affectation is absent, and we are unconscious of the want of charms in those who have the power of fascinating us by something more real and permanent than external attractions and transitory shows.

Remember that love is dependent upon forms; courtesy of etiquette must guard and protect courtesy of heart. How many hearts have been lost irrecoverably and how many averted eyes and cold looks have been gained from what seemed, perhaps, but a trifling negligence of forms. Love is a tender plant and can not bear cold neglect. It requires kind acts and thoughtful attentions, one to the other, and thrives at its best only when surrounded by an atmosphere of disinterested courtesy.

The love of woman is a stronger power and a sweeter thing than that of man. Men and women can not be judged by the same rules. There are many radical differences in their affectional natures. Man is the creature of interest and ambition. His nature leads him forth into the struggle and bustle of the great world. Love is but the embellishment of his early life, or a song piped in the interval of the acts. He seeks for fame, for fortune, for space in the world's thoughts, and dominion over his fellow-men. But a woman's whole life is a history of the affections. The heart is her world; it is there her ambition strives for empire; it is there her nature seeks for love and kindness. She sends forth her sympathies on adventure; she embarks her whole soul in the traffic of affection, and if shipwrecked her case is hopeless, for it is the bankruptcy of a heart.

Woman's love is stronger than man's because she sacrifices more. For every woman is with the food of the heart as with the food of her body; it is possible to exist on a very small quantity, but this small quantity is an absolute necessity. The love of a pure, true woman has brightened some of the darkest scenes in the world's history. It inspires them with courage and incites them to actions utterly foreign to their shrinking dispositions. Who can estimate the value of a woman's affections? Gold can not purchase a gem so precious. In our most cheerless moments, when disappointments and care crowd round the heart, and even the gaunt form of poverty menaces with his skeleton fingers, it gleams round the soul like sunlight in dark places. It follows the prisoner into the gloomy cell, and in the silence of midnight it plays around his heart, and in his dreams he folds to his bosom the form of her who loves him still, though the world has turned coldly from him.

Love purifies the heart from self; it strengthens and ennobles the character, gives higher motives and a nobler aim to every action of life, and makes both man and woman strong, noble, and courageous; and the power to love truly and devotedly is the noblest gift with which a human being can be endowed, but it is a sacred fire and not to be burned before idols. Disinterested love is beautiful and noble. How high will it not rise! How many injuries will it not forgive! What obstacles will it not overcome, and what sacrifices will it not make rather than give up the being upon which it has been once wholly and truthfully fixed!

It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know it has begun. A thousand messengers betray it to the eye. Tone, act, attitude, and look, the signals upon the countenance, the electric telegraph of touch, all betray the yielding citadel. And there is nothing holier in this life of ours than the first consciousness of love, the first fluttering of its silken wings, the first rising sound of that wind which is so soon to sweep through the soul to purify or to destroy. Love is thus a power, potent for good, but, debased and corrupted, is as potent for evil. If it brings joys it may also conduce to exquisite anguish. A disappointment in love is more hard to get over than any other; the passion itself so softens and subdues the heart that it disables it from struggling or bearing up against the woes and distresses which befall it. The mind meets with other misfortune in her whole strength; she stands collected within herself and sustains the shock with all the force which is natural to her. But a heart crossed in love has its foundation sapped, and immediately sinks under the weight of accidents that are disagreeable to its favorite passion.

When time brings us to the resting-places of life—and we all expect them, and, in some measure, attain them—when we pause to consider its ways and to study its import, we then look back over the waste ground which we have left behind us. Is a bright spot to be seen there? It is where the star of love has shed its beams. Is there a plant, a flower, or any beautiful thing visible? It is where the smiles and tears of affection have been spent—where some fond eye met our own, some endearing heart was clasped to ours. Take these away and what joy has memory in retrospection, or what delight has hope in future prospects? The bosom which does not feel love is cold; the mind which does not conceive it is dull; the philosophy which does not accept it is false; and the only true religion in the world has pure, reciprocal, and undying love for its basis. The loves that make memory happy and home beautiful are those which form the sunlight of our earlier years; they beam gratefully along the pathway of our mature years, and their radiance lingers till the shadows of death darken them all together.

There is an unfortunate tendency in human nature to treat with levity many questions most vitally affecting man's real happiness. Thus in the questions of love, courtship, and marriage—questions than which none could be more important—it is to be deeply regretted that men and women do not more carefully consider the wisdom of their course, do not reflect whether they are guided by the light of calm, sober sense or are leaving things to impulse.

It has been wisely but sadly said that years are necessary to cement a friendship; but months, and sometimes weeks, and even days, are sufficient to prepare for that holier state of matrimony. From false regard to public opinion, or as a matter of convenience, or for the mere purpose of securing a home and being settled in life, thousands enter into the most sacred of human relationships with no such feelings as will enable them to bear the burdens which it brings.

Love and courtship should be to wedded love what a blossom is to the perfected fruit. The power of this love must be measured, not by its intensity, but by its effects—by its beneficence in bringing into play a higher range of motives, by the facilities it unfolds, by its skill in harmonizing different natures. Not once in a hundred times do two natures brought side by side harmonize in every part. Of nothing are people more ignorant than of human nature. Very rich and fruitful natures are often side by side with very barren ones; noble ones, with those that are sordid; exquisitely sensitive, with those coarse and rude. This is a consequence to be foreseen from the want of thought evinced by people when about to marry.

Many counsel the young not to expect too much from love. That is an evil philosophy, however, which advises to moderation by undervaluing the possibilities of a true and glorious love. Happiness in this life depends more upon the capacity of loving than on any other single quality. If men lose all the treasures of love, it does not prove that the treasure is not to be found, but that they have not sought aright. In love there are many apartments; but not to selfishness, sensuality, or arrogance will love yield its richest treasures. True love is social regeneration. It is a revolution ending with a new king, and a reconstruction of the soul.

The way of selfishness is self-seeking; that of love, self-sacrifice. It is this self-sacrificing spirit of love that can alone perpetuate its influence and establish its worth and blessedness. True wisdom, then, will say to the young, Love, but love not blindly. Justice is represented as blind, in order that, under no circumstances, can she swerve one hair's-breadth from the right, from personal favor or prejudice; but Love, on the contrary, should use his eyes to the fullest extent, in order that, in days of courtship, no stumbling-block may be left to become a torment after marriage.

A moment's consideration will show how utterly repugnant it is to all manly feelings to jest in this matter. It is one of the most serious concerns of life. Your weal or woe and the weal or woe of those who shall come after you, and the influence you shall exert upon the world, depend, in a great measure, upon the wisdom and virtue with which you conduct your preparation for marriage. All true minds see the manifest impropriety of jesting about the most delicate, serious, and sacred relation and feeling of human experience. The whole tendency of such lightness is to cause the marriage relation to be lightly esteemed and the true aim of courtship to be lost sight of. Until it is viewed in its true light, with that sober earnestness which the subject demands, courtship will be nothing else than a grand game of hypocrisy, resulting in misery the most deplorable.

Courtships are sweet and dreamy thresholds of unseen temples, where half the world has paused in couples, talked in whispers under the moonlight, passed on, but never returned. It should be to all but the entrance to scenes of happiness and content. But, alas! in the history of many we know that such is not the case. We have been but poor observers if we fail to recognize that marriage is not necessarily a blessing. It may be the bitterest curse; it may sting like an adder and bite like a serpent. Its bower is as often made of thorns as of roses. It blasts as many sunny expectations as it realizes, and an illy mated human pair is the most woeful picture of wretchedness that is presented in the book of life; and yet such pictures are plenty.

It becomes all young men and women, who are standing where the radiant beams of love are just beginning to gild the pathway before them, to endeavor to ascertain, with the aid of others' experience, with calm and careful consideration, with an appeal for guidance from on high, whether the person he or she proposes to unite their destiny to is the one with whom, of all the world, they are best adapted to make the journey. If, as the result of such reflection, they are convinced that the choice is wise, they may with confidence proceed to take upon themselves the duties and privileges of the marriage relation. But if such observation shows that they have heretofore erred, as they value their future happiness and the happiness of others, let them stop before the vow is said that indissolubly unites their fate with another's.

Marriage should be made a study. Every youth, both male and female, should so consider it. It is the grand social institution of humanity. Its laws and relations are of momentous importance to the race. Should it be entered blindly, in total ignorance of what it is, what its conditions of happiness are? The object of courtship is not to woo; it is not to charm, gratify, or please, simply for the present pleasure. It is simply for the selection of a life companion—one who must bear, suffer, and enjoy life with us in all of its forms; in its frowns as well as smiles, joys, and sorrows—one who will walk pleasantly, willingly, and confidingly by our side through all the intricate and changing vicissitudes incident to mortal life.

What is to be sought is a companion, a congenial spirit, one possessed of an interior constitution of soul similar to our own, of similar age, opinions, tastes, habits, modes of thought and feeling. A congenial spirit is one who, under any given combination of circumstances, would be affected, feel, and act as we ourselves would; it is one who would approve what we approve and condemn what we condemn, not for the purpose of agreeing with us, but of his or her own free will. This is a companion who is already united to us by the ties of spiritual harmony, which union it is the object of courtship to discover.

Courtship, then, is a voyage of discovery or a court of inquiry, established by mutual consent of the parties, to see wherein and to what extent there is a harmony existing. If in all these they honestly and harmoniously agree, and find a deep and thrilling pleasure in their agreement, find their union of sentiment to give a charm to their social intercourse; if now they feel that their hearts are bound as well as their sentiments in a holy unity, and that for each other they would live and labor and make every personal sacrifice with gladness, and that without each other they know not how to live, it is their privilege, yes, their _duty_ to form a matrimonial alliance.

The true companion has to be sought for. She does not parade herself as store goods. She is not fashionable. Generally she is not rich. But, oh! what a heart she has when you find her—so large and pure and womanly. When you see it you wonder if those showy things outside were really women. Courtship is the brilliant scene in the maiden life of a woman. It is to her a garden where no weeds mingle with the flowers, but all is lovely and beautiful to the sense. It is a dish of nightingales served up by moonlight to the mingled music of many tendernesses and gentle whisperings and eagerness, that does not outstep the bounds of delicacy.

Courtship is the first turning point in the life of a woman, crowded with perils and temptation. The rose tints of affection dazzle and bewilder the imagination, and while always bearing in mind that life without love is a wilderness, it should not be overlooked that true affection requires solid support. Discretion tempers passion, and it is precisely this quality which oftener than any other is found to be absent in courtship. Young persons require wise counselors. They should not trust too much to the impulse of the heart, nor be too easily captivated by a winning exterior.

In the selection of a wife a pure, loving heart and good common sense are many times more valuable than personal beauty or wealth. Once installed in the affections of such a lady, you have a life claim on her good offices. No sacrifice she can make is too great, no adversity so stern that it can shake her firmness or hopefulness. Such a woman is a helpmeet as the Creator designed a wife to be. It is an error, which has proved fatal to many young lives, to marry one whom you consider your inferior in mind or body. A wife has the power to make or destroy the home, and a weak heart and shallow brain can never have the former effect.

There can be no such a thing as interchange of sentiment where she does not appreciate your highest thoughts. Can you reveal to her the sacred treasures of mind, which lie hidden from the careless gaze of others, and be assured of her sympathy? Can she walk hand in hand with you as her equal, honored above all women? Is she fit to sit in your household as a shining light, respected for her gentle dignity and the wisdom of her management and conversation? The quiet, reserved girl does not always possess these qualifications; neither does the bright, gay creature, whose presence throws a halo over her surroundings. The poor are no more likely to have the proper gifts and trainings than those who never knew a wish ungratified. But any woman of noble principles, a warm heart, and good common sense to guide her can easily reach the standard.

There is equal danger before the young lady in her choice of a husband. Young men inclined to intemperate habits, even but slightly so, as they have not sufficient moral stamina to enable them to resist temptation even in its incipient stages, and are consequently deficient in self-respect, can not possess that pure, uncontaminated feeling which alone capacitates a man for rightly appreciating the tender and loving nature of a true woman.

It is equally fatal for a woman to marry a man who is her inferior. She of necessity descends to his level. Being his superior in every good sense of the word, she can not have for him that high feeling of regard which every wife should have for her husband. Lacking that, love too soon fades away, and only the duties of married life remain; its pleasures are all gone. What is wanted in both is a true companion; not one who possesses wealth, not necessarily the possessor of a scholastic education, but one who has a pure, warm heart and good common sense.

A true courtship is with all a beautiful sight. Only the coarse and illiterate can there see aught for ridicule or unseemly jest. It is the flowing together of two separate lives that have heretofore been divided, now mysteriously brought together to flow on through all time, and only God in his infinite wisdom knows how far in the shadowy hereafter.

The marriage ceremony is one of the most interesting and solemn spectacles that social life presents. To see two rational creatures, in the glow of youth and hope which invests life in a halo of happiness, appear together and acknowledge their preference for each other, voluntarily enter into a league of perpetual friendship and amity, and call on all to witness the sanctity of their vows, awakens deep feeling in the hearts of all beholders. A holy influence is felt to pervade the place; the spirit of the hour is sacramental.

Though mirth may abound before and after the irrevocable formula is spoken, yet at that particular point of time there is a shadow on the most laughing lip, a moisture in the firmest eye; and it may well be so. To think of the endearing relations, and the important consequences which are to flow from it as the couple walk side by side through life, participating in the same joys and sharing the same sorrows, two weak, frail human natures thus taking upon themselves, in the sight of God and man, the weighty duties of a new and untried state of existence, exerts a solemn influence on all.

All pictures of human happiness represent sorrow in the background. Thus the wedding ceremony. True, it is considered an occasion of great joy; but there remains the thought, the smile that kindles to ecstasy at their union will at last be quenched in the tears of the survivor. Man may unite, but death only separates. If from this proceed some of the deepest joys of life, from hence also come not unfrequently the deepest sorrows.

There is no one thing more lovely in this life, more full of the divinest courage, than when a young maiden—from her past life; from her happy childhood, when she rambled over every field and moor around her home; when a mother anticipated her wants and soothed her little cares; when brothers and sisters grew from merry playmates to loving, trustful friends; from the Christmas gatherings and romps, the festival in bower or garden; from the rooms sanctified by the death of relatives; from the holy and secure background of her early life—looks out into a dark and unknown future, away from all that, and yet unterrified, undaunted, undertakes the journey, with a trusting confidence in the one beside her. Buoyed up with the confidence of requited love, she bids a fond and grateful adieu to the life that is passed, she turns with excited hopes and joyful anticipations of happiness to what is to come.

Then woe to the man who can blast such hopes, who can break the illusions that have won her, and destroy the confidence which his love inspired! Marriage offers the most effective opportunity for spoiling the life of another. Nobody can debase, harass, and ruin a woman as her own husband, and nobody can do a tithe as much to chill a man's aspiration for good, to paralyze his energies, as his wife; and a man is never irretrievably ruined in his prospects till he marries a bad woman. Perhaps there is no hour in the life of a man or woman more potential for weal or woe than the marriage hour. That is the hour from whence most men can date their success or failure; for while nothing is a greater incentive to a man to put forth all his exertions than for the sake of his wife, and while her society is the place where he forgets the cares of the world, and in its quiet rest finds new courage to take up life's load, yet has a wife equal power for ill.

Be a man ever so ambitious, energetic, or industrious, yet with a careless or spendthrift wife his best efforts for success are vain. And nothing will sooner discourage a man than a wife too ignorant or too careless to understand, appreciate, and sympathize with his efforts. And for the woman, too, it is at once the happiest and saddest hour of her life. It is the promise of future bliss, raised on the death of all present enjoyment. She quits her home, her parents, her companions, her occupation, her amusements, her every thing upon which she has hitherto depended for comfort, for affection, for kindness, for pleasure.

With the marriage ceremony she enters a new world; but it is with her a world from whence she can not return. If the man of her choice be an upright, pure man, with manly traits of character, industrious and honest, in the majority of cases she is to blame if it be not to her a world of happiness. But if she has erred, and she finds herself bound for life with one inferior to her, or who is enslaved to habit or temper, or destitute of manly attributes, God help her! Her future is full of misery.

A man's moral character is necessarily powerfully influenced by his wife. A lower nature will drag him down, as a higher one will lift him up. The former will deaden his sympathies, dissipate his energies, and distort his life, while the latter, by satisfying his affections, will strengthen his moral nature, and, by giving him repose, tend to energize his intellect. Not only so, but a woman of high principle will insensibly elevate the aim and purpose of her husband, as one of low principles will unconsciously degrade them. In the course of life we may see even a weak man display real public virtue, because he had by his side a woman of noble character, who sustained him in his career, and exercised a fortifying influence on his views of public duty; while, on the contrary, all have often witnessed men of grand and generous instincts transformed into vulgar self-seekers by contact with women of narrow natures, devoted to an imbecile love of pleasure, and from whose minds the grand motive of duty was altogether absent. As wives may exercise a great moral influence upon their husbands, so, on the other hand, there are few men strong enough to resist the influence of a lower character in a wife. If she does not sustain and elevate what is highest in his nature, she will speedily reduce him to her own level. Thus a wife may be the making or unmaking of the best of men.

It is by the regimen of the domestic affections that the heart of man is best composed and regulated. The home is the woman's kingdom, her state, her world where she governs by affection, by kindness, by the power of gentleness. There is nothing which so settles the turbulence of a man's nature as his union in life with a high-minded woman. There he finds rest, contentment, and happiness—rest of brain and peace of spirit. He will also often find in her his best counselor; for her instinctive tact will usually lead him right, where his own unaided reason might be apt to go wrong.

The true wife is a staff to lean upon in times of trial and difficulty, and she is never wanting in sympathy and solace when distress occurs or fortune frowns. In the time of youth she is a comfort and an ornament of man's life, and she remains a faithful helpmate in maturer years, when life has ceased to be in anticipation, and we live in its realities. Of all the institutions that effect human weal or woe on earth none is more important than marriage. It is the foundation of the great social fabric, and conceals within its mystic relations the coiled secrets of the largest proportion of happiness and misery connected with the lot of man.

Marriage, to be a blessing, must be properly entered. It has its fundamental laws, which must be obeyed. It is not a mysterious, wonder-working institution of the Almighty, which can not be studied by the common mind, but a simple necessity laid in man's social nature, which may be read and understood of all men who will investigate that nature. The reasons for every enjoyment of the matrimonial life may be understood before entering upon its relations. The conditions upon which its joys and advantages are realized may be learned beforehand. It should not be entered in blindness, but rather in the daylight of a perfect knowledge of its rules and regulations, its promises and conditions, its laws and privileges, so that no uncertainty shall attend its realization, no unhappy revealments shall follow a knowledge of its reality.

Marriage, then, should be made a study. Every youth, both male and female, should so consider it. It is the grand social institution of humanity. Its laws and relations are of momentous importance to the race. Shall it be entered blindly, in total ignorance of what it is, what its conditions of happiness are? Its relations involve some of the most stern duties and acts of self-denial that men are called upon to perform. Shall youth enter upon its relations without a knowledge of these duties? For all the professions, trades, and callings in life men and women prepare themselves by previous attention to their principles and duties. They study them,—devote time and money to them. Every imaginable case of difficulty or trial is considered and duly disposed of according to the general principles of the trade or profession. But marriage—incomparably the most important and holy relation of life, involving the most sacred responsibilities and influences, social, civil, and religious, that bear upon men—is entered upon in hot haste or blind stupidity, by a great majority of youth.