Aims and Aids for Girls and Young Women

G >> George Sumner Weaver >> Aims and Aids for Girls and Young Women

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Young women ought to hold a steady moral sway over their male
associates, so strong as to prevent them from becoming such lawless
rowdies. Why do they not? Because they do not possess sufficient _force_
of character. They have not sufficient resolution and energy of purpose.
Their virtue is not vigorous. Their moral wills are not resolute. Their
influence is not armed with executive power. Their goodness is not felt
as an earnest force of benevolent purpose. Their moral convictions are
not regarded as solemn resolves to be true to God and duty, come what
may. Their opinions are not esteemed as the utterances of wisdom. Their
love is not accepted as the strong purpose of a devout soul to be true
to its highest ideas of affectionate life. In no particular do they make
impressions of strong moral force. They do not exert the deep,
resistless influence of full-grown womanhood. The great lack of young
women is a lack of _power_. They do not make themselves felt. They need
more force of character. It is not enough that they are _pure_. They
must be virtuous; that is, they must possess that virtue which wins
laurels in the face of temptation; which is backed by a mighty force of
moral principle; which frowns on evil with a rebuking authority; which
will not compromise its dignity, nor barter its prerogatives for the
gold or fame of the world, the very frown of which would annihilate him
who would attempt to seduce it; which claims as its right such virtue in
its associates. There is a virtue which commands respect; which awes by
its dignity and strength; a virtue exhibited in such commanding strength
of moral purpose as silences every vile wish to degrade it; a virtue
that knows why it hates evil, why it loves right, why it cleaves to
principle as to life; a virtue more mighty in its potency than any other
force--which gives a sublime grandeur to the soul in which it dwells and
the life it inspires. This is the virtue that belongs to womanhood. It
is the virtue every young woman should possess. It is not enough to have
an easy kind of virtue which more than half courts temptation; which is
pure more from a fear of society's rebuke than a love of right; which
rebukes sin so faintly that the sinner feels encouraged to proceed;
which smiles on small offenses, and kindly fondles the pet evils of
society out of which in the end grow the monsters. This is the virtue of
too many women. They would not have a drunkard for a husband, but they
would drink a glass of wine with a fast young man. They would not use
profane language, but they are not shocked by its incipient language,
and love the society of men whom they know are as profane as Lucifer out
of their presence. They would not be dishonest, but they will use a
thousand deceitful words and ways, and countenance the society of men
known as hawkers, sharpers, and deceivers. They would not be
irreligious, but they smile upon the most irreligious men, and even show
that they love to be wooed by them. They would not be licentious, but
they have no stunning rebuke for licentious men, and will even admit
them on parol into their society. This is the virtue of too many
women--a virtue scarcely worthy the name--really no virtue at all--a
milk-and-water substitute--a hypocritical, hollow pretension to virtue
as unwomanly as it is disgraceful. This is not the virtue of true
womanhood. Do young women propose for themselves the strong virtue of
womanhood, which is an impregnable fortress of righteous principle? If
not, they should do it. It should be their first work to conceive the
idea of such a virtuous principle as an indwelling life, and when
conceived it should be sought as the richest wealth, as the grandest
human attainment--as that alone which confers upon woman a divine grace.

Nor is it enough that young women _love_ well. To be on fire of an
adulterous love or a blind passion, which is little better, is one
thing; and to love righteously, nobly, steadily, is another thing. Woman
naturally has great strength of affection. She loves by an irresistible
impulse. But that love is not worthy unless it be directed to worthy
objects and swayed by high moral principles. The love of a woman should
be as the love of an angel. It should swell in her bosom as a great tide
of moral life, binding her to beauty of soul, worth of character,
excellency of life. She should not waste her love on unworthy objects,
on impure and lecherous men or women. Her love, to be truly womanly,
must not be a love of person or outward charms, so much as a love of
principle, a love of magnanimity, integrity, wisdom, affection, piety; a
love of whatever may magnify and adorn a human soul. It is unwomanly to
waste the high energies of her love on the material charms of an elegant
person, or the brilliant accomplishments of cultured manners, unless
they are united with true worth of character. The love of womanhood is
the love of worth, the love of mental harmony and spiritual powers.
True, woman may pity corruption, may sympathize with all manner of
offenders; may give the force of her compassion to the erring and
unrighteous; so she may admire genius, culture, the beauty of person,
and the charms of manner; but her love is only for real worth, for that
which is enduring and Godlike. She may find pleasure in many things and
persons that she must not, can not love. Love is too precious to be
wasted on any thing but its legitimate objects, wealth of mind and worth
of character.

Nor yet is it enough that young women _behave_ well. Something more is
needed than a correct outward life. Many behave well who have but
little worth of character. They behave well because it is best for their
social standing because society loves good behavior and pays it the
compliment of respect. It is well to behave well. There is no true life
without becoming behavior. We have all praise for good behavior. It
should be one great object in every young woman's life to study for a
becoming and womanly behavior. Her manners should be agreeable; her
conversation should be chaste and proper; her deportment should be
dignified and easy; her regard for propriety and fitness in all she says
and does should be made manifest; and in all respects her behavior
should be such as becomes womanhood. But while we recommend this as of
very great importance, we say it is not enough. Good behavior must
spring from a good heart. If it is studied as an outside fitness, a
cloak, or a fashionable attire, it will not answer the purpose for which
it is intended. A purely outside life is a sham, and sooner or later
defeats itself. There is no concealing a bad heart. It may be done for a
little while, but it can not be kept concealed. Like murder, it will
out. So a heart that is not particularly bad, but only lacks true
principle, will soon expose its hollowness. Its want of moral power will
be felt. But even if it would not expose itself, it would be infinitely
best to imbue it with righteous principle. For itself, for its own
happiness, it must be good.

Genuine good behavior springs from an inward harmony of character which
blends all inward essences of good. It does not come from any one, nor
a few great virtues. It is the mingled result of all. Young women, then,
must not be satisfied with possessing a few good traits of character.
They must strive for all; for it is only in the possession of all that
inward harmony can be enjoyed. The beauty of woman's life grows out of
this harmony. A mind jarred by inward discord can never ultimate a good
life. This discord will show itself in the life. Spiritual harmony is
the great attainment all should have in view. In this lies the charm of
womanhood. Out from this goes the sweet influences of the outward life.
The divine grace of womanly propriety is the fruit that grows from this
combination of all excellences.

To attain this, the first thing is self-control. How few women have any
thing like a respectable amount of self-control. The great majority are
nervous, excitable, fidgety. They frighten at a spider, laugh at a silly
joke, love at first sight, go into spasms at disappointment, cry about
trifles, have a fit of admiration at the sight of a pretty dress, have
as many moods in a day as the wind, and in all respects exhibit every
indication of the most disorderly, uncontrolled mind. Talk about harmony
in such a character! We may as well look for wisdom in the house of
folly. No mental habit is worse than that of giving the reins to our
impulses. They are sure to lead us into difficulty. There is scarcely a
more disgusting sight than a woman, well endowed, all given up to the
sway of her impulses. Trust her! Why, you may as well trust the wind.
Love her! You may as well fix your affections on the vanishing rainbow.
Hope for good at her hands! As well hope for stability among the clouds.
A useless, dangerous, troublesome, miserable thing is a woman of
impulse. And yet there are thousands of them. They keep themselves and
the world in a grand effervescence. If there is any evil to be avoided,
it is this. If there is any virtue to be sought, it is self-control. And
yet it is difficult of attainment in our order of society. Women are so
shut up from healthy air and exercise, so excluded from ennobling
avocations, so hemmed in by conventional rules, so compelled to have
waiters, assistants, beaux, somebody to lead them, advise them, do for
them, think for them--are so annoyed by petty cares and trifling
vexations, and so subjected to abuses, both of a private and public
nature, that self-control is a virtue harder of attainment than almost
any other. Yet none is needed more than this. And it must be attained,
or the glory of womanhood can never be put on. If the struggle is hard,
the victory will be all the grander. Let no young woman give up in
despair. The power is in her if she will but use it. She may be the
queen of her own soul if she will. All depends upon the force of her
will.

Young women have much to hope for, and the world much to hope for at
their hands. A better idea of womanhood is growing up in the minds of
men. Woman's wrong, difficulties, and trials are being felt. Her
aimless, hopeless life is being mourned over. The evils from a false
society preying upon all womankind are being felt; and almost every
woman is beginning to feel the approaching indications of a better time
coming. Women are asking, "What shall we do? We wish not to be idle. We
feel too much shut out from useful avocations. We feel too little
opportunity to work out for ourselves such characters as we know we
ought to possess. We must, we will do something for our own elevation."

Let every young woman determine to do something for the honor and
elevation of her sex. At least let her determine that she will possess
and always wear about her as her richest possession a true womanhood.
This is the most that she can do. Above all, let her not throw obstacles
in the way of her sisters, who are striving nobly to be useful, but
rather help them with the weight of her encouragement and counsel. Let
her determine that for herself she will do her own thinking; that she
will form her own opinions from her own investigations; that she will
persist in holding the highest principles of womanly morality and the
virtuous attainments which constitute a true womanhood. When she has
done this, let her call to her aid all the force of character she can
command to enable her to persist in being a woman of the true stamp. In
every class of society the young women should awake to their duty. They
have a great work to do. It is not enough that they should be what their
mothers were. They must be more. The spirit of the times calls on woman
for a higher order of character and life. Will young women heed the
call? Will they emancipate themselves from the fetters of custom and
fashion, and come up a glorious company to the possession of a vigorous,
virtuous, noble womanhood--a womanhood that shall shed new light upon
the world, and point the way to a divine life? We wait to hear the
answer in the coming order of women.

Lecture Fourteen.

HAPPINESS.

Happiness Desired--Fretful People--Motes in the Eye--We were Made
for Happiness--Sorrow has Useful Lessons--Happiness a
Duty--Despondency is Irreligious--Pleasure not always Happiness--The
Misuse of the World--Contentment necessary to Happiness--Happiness
must be sought aright--Truly seeking we shall Find--Our Success not
always Essential--Happiness often Found Unexpectedly--Happiness
overcomes Circumstances--A Tendency to Murmuring--God Rules over
All--Health necessary to Happiness--Disease is Sinful--God Loves a
Happy Soul--Happiness Possible to All.

It is commonly believed that men are happy or unhappy according to
circumstances. But this may well be questioned; for multitudes are
intensely miserable under circumstances highly favorable to happiness.
The high-born, the wealthy, the distinguished, and even the good, are
often unhappy. Many very excellent persons, whose lives are honorable
and whose characters are noble, pass numberless hours of sadness and
weariness of heart. The fault is not with their circumstances, nor yet
with their general characters, but with themselves, that they are
miserable. They have failed to adopt the true philosophy of life. They
wait for Happiness to come instead of going to work and making it; and
while they wait they torment themselves with borrowed troubles, with
fears, forebodings, morbid fancies and moody spirits, till they are all
unfitted for Happiness under any circumstances. Sometimes they cherish
unchaste ambition, covet some fancies or real good which they do not
deserve and could not enjoy if it were theirs, wealth they have not
earned, honors they have not won, attentions they have not merited, love
which their selfishness only craves. Sometimes they undervalue the good
they do possess; throw away the pearls in hand for some beyond their
reach, and often less valuable; trample the flowers about them under
their feet; long for some never seen, but only heard or read of; and
forget present duties and joys in future and far-off visions. Sometimes
they shade the present with every cloud of the past, and although
surrounded by a thousand inviting duties and pleasures, revel in sad
memories with a kind of morbid relish for the stimulus of their
miseries. Sometimes, forgetting the past and present, they live in the
future, not in its probable realities, but in its most improbable
visions and unreal creations, now of good and then of evil, wholly
unfitting their minds for real life and enjoyments. These morbid and
improper states of mind are too prevalent among young women. They excite
that nervous irritability which is so productive of pining regrets and
fretful complaints. They make that large class of fretters who enjoy no
peace themselves, nor permit others to about them. In the domestic
circle they fret their life away. Every thing goes wrong with them
because they make it so. The smallest annoyances chafe them as though
they were unbearable aggravations. Their business and duties trouble
them as though such things were not good. Pleasure they never seem to
know because they never get ready to enjoy it. Even the common movements
of Providence are all wrong with them. The weather is never as it should
be. The seasons roll on badly. The sun is never properly tempered. The
climate is always charged with a multitude of vices. The winds are
everlastingly perverse, either too high or too low, blowing dust in
everybody's face, or not fanning them as they should. The earth is ever
out of humor, too dry or too wet, too muddy or dusty. And the people are
just about like it. Something is wrong all the time, and the wrong is
always just about them. Their home is the worst of anybody's; their
street and their neighborhood is the most unpleasant to be found; nobody
else has so bad servants and so many annoyances as they. Their lot is
harder than falls to common mortals; they have to work harder and always
did; have less and always expect to. They have seen more trouble than
other folks know any thing about. They are never so well as their
neighbors, and they always charge all their unhappiness upon those
nearest connected with them, never dreaming that they are themselves the
authors of it all. Such people are to be pitied. Of all the people in
the world they deserve most our compassion. They are good people in many
respects, very benevolent, very conscientious, very pious, but, withal,
very annoying to themselves and others. As a general rule, their
goodness makes them more difficult to cure of their evil. They can not
be led to see that they are at fault. Knowing their virtues they can
not see their faults. They do not perhaps over-estimate their virtues,
but fail to see what they lack, and what they lack they charge upon
others, often upon those who love them best. They see others' actions
through the shadow of their own fretful and gloomy spirits. Hence it is
that they see their own faults as existing in those about them, as a
defect in the eye produces the appearance of a corresponding defect in
every object toward which it is turned. This defect in character is more
generally the result of vicious or improper habits of mind, than any
constitutional idiosyncrasy. It is the result of the indulgence of
gloomy thoughts, morbid fancies, inordinate ambition, habitual
melancholy, a complaining, fault-finding disposition. It is generally
early acquired, not in childhood, but in youth. Childhood is too
buoyant, fresh, and free for such indulgences. Early youth--when its
passions are developing, when the soul's bubbling springs are opening
fresh and warm, when young hopes put out, to be blighted with a shade,
young loves come to be disappointed with a frown, young desires aspire
to be saddened with the first failure--is the season when the seeds of
disquiet and unhappiness are sown in the soul. And in the most gifted
and sensitive souls these seeds are oftenest sown. Those of highly
poetic temperaments, of delicate and almost divine psychology, in whom
some little constitutional unbalance existed at the beginning of life,
and whose judgments developed slower than their passions, are often
those who drink the bitterest waters of life. Beautiful souls, sitting
in the shadow of self-gathered clouds! We pity and love them. We never
see one without longing to bless it. Oh, could they but know how
unbecoming such powers and virtues are, such gloominess and disquiet,
they would rouse themselves to the glories of a morning life, and,
shaking the dews of the night from their wings, would soar aloft in the
sunshine of wisdom and love. Having tasted the bitter waters of sorrow,
they may appreciate, perhaps all the better, the sweet nectar of life
which ought to flow from all our states of mind and outward actions. We
were not made for sorrow, but for joy. Our souls were not so delicately
wrought to be wasted in fear and melancholy. Our minds were not so
gifted to spend themselves on clouds and in darkness. Our hearts were
not so firmly strung to wail notes of grief and woe. This beautiful
world, so ever fresh and new about us, was not designed to imprison
self-convicted souls away from its sunshine and flowers. The bending
heavens arching so grandly over us, so studded with sparkling
joy-lights, and animated with the eternal cotillion of the skies,
invites to no such irreverent repining. Creation's wide field of
animated existence inspires no such moodiness and fretfulness of spirit.
It is all wrong; it is absolutely sinful. We have no moral right to make
ourselves or others so unhappy. We were made for happiness as well as
holiness. All life's duties and experiences, when properly understood,
are the steps that lead to the temple of eternal good. Disappointments
and crosses may come, but let them come; they bring their lessons of
wisdom. Failures may crush our hopes and stop us on life's way; but we
may gather up and go on again rejoicing in what we have learned. Toils
may demand our time and energies; let us give them; labor creates
strength and imparts knowledge. Others may use our earnings, and require
our care and support; let it be so: "It is more blessed to give than to
receive."

Our friends may die and leave our hearts and homes desolate for a time;
we can not prevent it, nor would it be best if we could. Sorrow has its
useful lessons when it is legitimate, and death is the gate that opens
out of earth toward the house "eternal in the heavens." If we lose them,
heaven gains them. If we mourn, they rejoice. If we hang our harps on
the willows, they tune theirs in the eternal orchestra above, rejoicing
that we shall soon be with them. Shall we not drown our sorrow in the
flood of light let through the rent vail of the skies which Jesus
entered, and, to cure our loneliness, gather to us other friends to walk
life's way, knowing that every step brings us nearer the departed, and
their sweet, eternal home, which death never enters, and where partings
are never known? We may still love the departed. They are ours as ever,
and we are theirs. The ties that unite us are not broken. They are too
strong for death's stroke. They are made for the joys of eternal
friendship. Other friendships on earth will not disturb these bonds that
link with dear ones on high. Nor will our duties below interfere with
the sacredness of our relations with them. They wish not to see us in
sorrow. They doubtless sympathize with us; and could we hear their sweet
voices, they would tell us to dry our tears, and bind ourselves to other
friends, and joyfully perform all duties on earth till our time to
ascend shall come.

Every lesson of life, wisely read, tells us that we should be happy;
that we should seek to be happy from principle, not simply from impulse;
that we should make Happiness a great object in life; that our duties,
our varied relations to our fellows as friends, as lovers, as
companions, as parents, as children; our avocations, our labors,
sacrifices, hopes, trials, struggles, should administer to our
Happiness. And it is our business to see that they do. Is it a duty to
be good? It is just as much a duty to be happy, to train our minds to
pleasant moods, and our hearts to cheerful feelings. There is no duty
more sanctioned by every moral obligation than the duty to be happy. We
have no moral right to make others miserable, or to permit them to
remain so when we can help it. No more right have we to torment our own
souls, or to permit habitual sadness and despondency to weigh down our
spirits. It is well for every young person to seek true moral light upon
this subject; and especially for young women, for their peculiarly
sensitive and affectionate nature, their confined habits and
employments, their cares multiplying as they grow older, and their
body-wearying and soul-trying experiences and labors demand the very
best philosophy and religion of life; and more so as the men with whom
their lots will be likely to be cast appreciate so little the trials and
experiences of woman's life. They ought to start out resolutely
determined to be happy, to seek the good of every thing. This should be
the first precept in their moral mode, the first article in their creed,
the first resolution demanded by their religion. We have no confidence
in a gloomy religion. Human souls were never made to do penance, to
lacerate and torment themselves in worship or duty. Every truth in the
theology of the Bible beams with a glory that ought to illuminate our
minds with a light almost divine. Every principle of "the glorious
Gospel of the blessed God" is benignant and smiling with the love of the
Father, and ought to animate our souls with the joy of a steady
blessedness. Every duty demanded by the Christian religion is but the
requirement of perfect love, and should quicken our consciences to the
most lively satisfaction. To be desponding and gloomy is indeed
irreligious. Hearty joy is the fruit of religion. Swelling gladness is
the praise-note of the truly Christian spirit. There are no possessions
like religious possessions to fill the soul with true enjoyment. And
what are they? They are, first: a mind in harmony with the works and
ways of God, which sees the Father in the daily movements of the spheres
and the providential arrangements of the world; in the blossoming life
of spring, and the withered death of winter; in the dear relations of
domestic life, and the more showy fraternities of nations; in birth, and
life, and death; in every provision for happiness found in the wide
range of the physical and spiritual universe; secondly, a conscience
void of offense toward God and man; in love with right, bound to
righteous principle in a wedlock that knows no breaking; devout, honest,
kind, because it is right and Godlike so to be; which rules the mind and
life with a gentle but powerful sway, leading where angels walk in every
pure and honest word and work; and thirdly, a heart swelling with love
to God and man; an earnest, warm, good-willing heart, lighting its face
with sunshine, and softening its hand with tenderness; a heart that can
melt in others' woes, and glow in others' joys, pure and chaste, subdued
and calm. Such a mind, such a conscience, such a heart afford true
religious enjoyments. The more one has of such possessions, the happier
he must be. With such a mind, the true philosophy of life is clear--it
is that we were made to be happy in righteousness and truth, and should
bend all our energies to guard our hearts from every fretful and
desponding feeling, and make every experience in life bless and make us
happy. Oh, young woman! set your heart on Happiness; not on pleasure
that floats on the surface of life, but on that inward peace that dwells
in the soul devoted to all good. The things about us are designed to
administer to our Happiness, and we should _use_ them for this purpose.
The world we live in is for our use. Food, raiment, money, wealth are
for use. They are adapted to good ends in life. They help us to comfort,
convenience, beauty, and knowledge. Wisely used, they serve us well; but
abused, they sting us with many poisoned darts. The most of us make
ourselves miserable by a misuse of the world. We fret our souls
well-nigh to death about dress, food, houses, lands, goods, wealth. We
live for these things, as though serving them could give us Happiness.
We are ambitious of gains and gold, as though these could answer the
soul's great wants, as though these could think and love, admire and
worship. We chase the illusive glitter of fashion as though it was a
crown of glory, and could impart dignity and peace to its wearer. We
hunt after pleasure as though it could be found by searching. Pleasure
comes of itself. It must never be wooed. She is a coy maid, and ever
eludes her flattering followers. She will come and abide with us when we
use wisely the world and its good things. But we must put things to
their true use, else pleasure will keep away. Oh, how much might we
enjoy life if we would put things to their true use! When the sun
shines, we must love it and think of its treasures of wealth to the
world. When the cloud rises, we must admire its somber glory, for it is
big with blessings. The morning must be accepted as a rosy blessing, the
evening as a quiet prelude to repose; the day as an opportunity for
achievements worthy of us, and the night for refreshing rest and
recruit.

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