Improvement in a solitary state. The social relations. Mother and daughter. Father and daughter. Brother and sister. The elder sister. Brethren and sisters of the great human family. The family constitution. Character of Fidelia. Her resolutions of celibacy. In what cases the latter is a duty. A new and interesting relation. Selection with reference to it. Principles by which to be governed in making a selection. Evils of a hasty or ill-judged selection. Counsellors. Anecdote of an unwise one. Great caution to be observed. Direction to be sought at the throne of grace.

Were there but a single individual in the wide world, that individual, with the laws that woman now has to guide her—laws internal and external, natural and revealed—would be susceptible of endless and illimitable improvement. She might make advances every day—and it would he her duty to do so—upward toward the throne of God, and towards the perfection of him who occupies it.

But if much might be done by an individual in a solitary state, how much more may be accomplished in the social state in which it has pleased our Heavenly Father to place us? It is difficult to turn our eyes in any direction, without being met by numerous and striking proofs of divine wisdom and benevolence; but if there be any one thing in the whole moral world, short of the redemption by Jesus Christ, which overwhelms me with wonder, and leads me to adore more than any thing else, it is the divine wisdom and benevolence, as manifested in the social state allotted to man.

How interesting—how exceedingly so—the relation between a mother and a daughter? And how many blessings—deficient as many mothers are in knowledge and love—are showered upon the head of a young woman, through maternal instrumentality! In no case; however, is this relation more interesting, than when the young woman is just beginning to act for herself. Then, if ever, should she avail herself of them. She knows little of the world before her—either of the dangers on the one hand, or the advantages on the other. Of these, however, the mother knows much. Let the daughter value her society and good counsel above all else human, and lay hold of it as for her life.

How interesting, too, the relation between a wise and good father, and a virtuous and affectionate daughter! I am most struck, however, with this relation—and most reminded of the divine goodness in its institution—when I see a daughter ministering to the wants, moral and physical, of a very aged relative, parent or grandparent; one who is superannuated or sick.

There are, in civilized society—and above all, where the rays of the blessed gospel of the Son of God have been let in—scenes on which angels themselves might delight to gaze, and on which I have no doubt they do gaze with the most intense delight. Would that such scenes were still more frequent! Would that filial love was always what it should be, instead of degenerating into cold formalities.

"How have I been charmed;" says Addison, "to see one of the most beauteous women the age has produced, kneeling to put on an old man's slipper." And so have I. It is a sight which revives one's hopes of fallen nature. No matter if the infirmities of the parent are the consequences of his own folly, vice and crime, the same soft hand is still employed, day after day—and the same countenance is lighted up with a smile, at being able thus to employ it.

But when to the tenderest love on the part of a young woman in this relation, and to the kindest efforts to promote the temporal happiness and comfort of those whom she holds dear is joined a love for the mind and soul; when every opportunity, is laid hold of with eagerness, to inform, and improve, and elevate—and this, too, though the subject of her labor is the most miserable wreck of humanity of which we can conceive; when to works of love are added the warmest prayers, at the bedside and elsewhere, for Almighty aid and favor; the interest of the scene is indescribable. It needs a more than mortal pen or pencil to portray it.

There are other relations of society—relations of the young woman, I mean, in particular—which are of great importance and interest. Among these, are the relations of brother and sister.

Perhaps I am inclined to make too much of the passage of Scripture—already noticed in another chapter—where Cain is said to have been set over Abel, in the very language which is used to signify the superiority of Adam over Eve. And yet it must mean something. There is a mutual dependence between brothers and sisters of every age, which should result in continual improvement—intellectual, moral and religious. The duties involved in this relation, however, will be more especially binding on elder brothers and sisters; and as it appears to me, above all, on elder sisters. Indeed, in this respect, it is impossible for me to be mistaken. An elder sister is a sort of second mother; and she often fulfils the place of a mother. Oh, how important-how sacred—the trust committed to her keeping.

I have seen the care of a large family devolve, by the death of the mother, upon the elder daughter. Instead of her being disheartened at all, I have known her to go forward in the pathway of duty—sensible, at the same time, of her dependence on her Heavenly Father—and not only instruct the other children, but "train them up," in same good degree, "in the way they should go."

Do you think I respected or loved this young woman the less, because she was thus early a house—keeper, a matron, and a mother? Do you think I esteemed her the less, because—exclusive of the common school—she had no seminary of instruction? Her education was a thousand times more valuable than that of the fashionable routine of the schools, without the kind of discipline she had. A world whose females were all educated in the family schools—and especially in the school of affliction, and poverty, and hardship—would be incomparably a better world than one whose young women should "wear soft clothing," and live in "kings' courts"—who should be educated by merely fashionable mothers, amid ease and abundance, and "finished" at the institute or the boarding school.

Let me not be understood, in all this, as undervaluing kind mothers, and boarding schools, and comforts—and luxuries, even—in themselves considered. All I mean to discourage, is, a reliance on them, to the exclusion of other things of more importance. If we could have the latter in the first place—difficulties, hard-ships, hard labor, and adversity—and upon these engraft the former, I should like it exceedingly well. What I dislike is, not ornament, in itself, but ornament on that which is not worth ornamenting; and above all, nothing but ornament.

Let every young woman whose eye meets these paragraphs, rejoice, if she has younger brothers or sisters—or even if she has brothers or sisters at all. The younger may do something for the older, as well as the older much for the younger. And if she is without either, there are probably other and remoter relatives for whom something may be done.

I have alluded, elsewhere, to grand-parents There are usually uncles, aunts and cousin's—sometimes in great numbers. There is much due to these. I know, very well, that out over-refinement, in an over-refined and diseased society, says otherwise, of late; and that our time is expended more and more—especially that of females—on our own dear selves to the exclusion of remoter relatives. But this should not be the case. Whether we have brethren or sisters, properly so called, together with other more distant relatives, or not, we have brethren and sisters. The world is but a great family; and all are brethren, or ought to be so. We should love all—even our enemies—as brethren; but we should love, with the deepest and most enduring affection, those who love God most ardently. "My mother and brethren are they that hear the word of God and do it," said the Saviour; and it is only in proportion as we possess his spirit, that we shall be found to belong, in the truest sense, to his family.

The ties of which I have been speaking, in the preceding paragraphs, will have but poorly answered their purpose, if they have not had the effect to raise us to this universal love referred to by the Saviour. For this they were chiefly instituted; and to this, in the best state of human society, do they tend. They do not lead us to love relations, usually so called, any less: neither did they have this effect on Jesus. But they lead us to love the world at large, more.

If young women would have the spirit of our Lord and Saviour—or if they would be instruments in his hands of hastening the glad day of his more complete reign on the earth and in the hearts of his intelligent family—they must strive to come up to this love of the human family. It is to elevate them to this love, I again say, that the family institution, with all the interesting relations which grow out of it, was instituted. When it has accomplished this work, though it will not cease to be valuable, in the abstract, it will be less valuable relatively—because it will absorb a smaller proportion of our thoughts and affections, and leave a larger proportion for the world in general, and its Creator.

I have quoted, elsewhere, the sentiments of Addison, in regard to the filial affection of daughters. In the same paper, this interesting writer embodies his views on this subject, in the character of a young woman by the name of Fidelia, whose devotion to her father he describes as follows:

"Fidelia is now in the twenty-third year of her age; but the application of many admirers, and her quick sense of all that is truly elegant and noble in the enjoyment of a plentiful fortune, are not able to draw her from the side of her good old father. When she was asked by a friend of her deceased mother to admit the courtship of her son, she answered that she had a great respect and gratitude to her for the overture in behalf of one so near to her; but that during her father's life, she would admit into her heart no value for any thing which should interfere with her endeavors to make his remains of life as happy and easy as could be expected in his circumstances. The happy father has her declaration that she will not marry during his life, and the pleasure of seeing that resolution not uneasy to her."

Now, though I am not quite satisfied with the selfishness of the father, in this case—nor with the notion of Fidelia, that the particular friendship of another would interfere materially with her filial duties—yet I do not undertake to say that there are no cases in which a young woman has the right—the moral right—to make resolutions not unlike that made by Fidelia. It does not seem that her resolution to neglect the society of others for the sake of discharging an important filial duty, was for a longer period, than during the short life of a very decrepid old father.

I have introduced this subject in this place, as the preface to a series of remarks on that particular relation which every young woman—except, perhaps, a few who are situated like Fidelia—ought to be prepared to sustain, and to sustain well. Indeed, I consider this to be paramount, at a suitable age, to every other; and that no duty can, as a general rule, be more obligatory.

He who instituted the law of marriage, has not, indeed, condescended to say how early or in what circumstances this command must be yielded to, or obeyed; but, as a general rule, he requires it to be obeyed, in some form or other, and at some time or other. Or, to express the views I entertain more correctly, I should say, that no young woman, in ordinary circumstances, has a right to resolve to neglect the subject forever—or to say she never will marry. She is to consider the command of the Creator as obligatory, as a general fact, on the whole human race. She must remember, moreover, that if it is binding on the whole, it must be so on the individuals composing that whole.

On these principles the education of every young woman should, as I think, be conducted; and if, by the neglect of parents, masters or guardians, it has not been so, then it should be the aim of the young woman herself, in her efforts at self-education, to supply what has been by others omitted. Some of the items in this work of education have been alluded to—not only in the chapter on "Domestic Concerns;" and in that on "Economy," but elsewhere. My purpose at the present time, is merely to speak of the selection of her society with reference to her future state of life.

This is a subject of the highest importance to the happiness—present and future—of every young woman. The marriage relation, considered only as a means of completing the education of the parties, is one of immense importance. But it is of still greater importance, in reference to other duties which it involves. Hence it requires much forethought and reflection. Let me prevail with you, therefore, when I urge upon you the following considerations:

1. Never think for one moment of the society of any other than a good man. Whatever may be his extrinsic endowments—wit, beauty, talent, rank, property or prospects—all should be as nothing to you, unless his character is what it should be. Of course, I am not encouraging you to look for angelic perfection or purity on this earth; but do not make too many allowances, on the other hand, for frailty. A close examination, as with the microscope, will disclose irregularity and roughness on the most polished or smooth surface: how then will that surface appear which is uneven without the microscope? If it were possible for your associate for life to come apparently near celestial purity and excellence, a closer acquaintance would, most undoubtedly, convince you that he was of terrestrial origin. Do the best you can, therefore, and you will do ill enough.

2. It is not sufficient, however, that the friend you seek should be good—that is, negatively so: he must do good. Multitudes, in these days, pass for good men because they do no harm; or because, at most, they maintain a good standing, and are benevolent in the eye of the world. I know of more than one person in the world, who gives his property by thousands, annually—and whose praise is in all the churches—who never yet gave any thing worth naming, in his life, if the gospel rule on this subject is the correct one—that the widow who of her penury cast into the treasury two mites, in reality cast in more than all they who of their abundance bestowed large and liberal sums.

Let your associate, therefore, be a doer of good, in deed and in truth. This is said, however, with the supposition that you are so yourself; for if I have not already convinced you that the great end for which you were sent into the world is to do good, I shall not expect to do so by any remarks which could be thrown in here. If you are still out of the way, it is to be feared you will remain so: nor shall I expect you—for reasons to be seen presently—to seek the society of those who do not possess the same turn of mind.

3. It is highly desirable that the individual with whom you associate for life, should be something more than merely a good man. This, however, does not explain my meaning. For are there not many of the most excellent persons in the world, whom you would not willingly take for a daily companion? Do you not desire likeness in opinion, taste, purpose, &c.? Might not the two very best persons in the world be unhappy in each other's constant society, if they were exceedingly unlike each other?

In the establishment, then, of this interesting relation, seek by all means an individual who appears to entertain views of social life, as much as possible, like your own. Does he find his happiness in going abroad, or in lounging? Is he impatient in the society of children? Is he a great friend of parade and excitement? And are you the reverse of all this? Do you love most the quiet and retirement of home—and to be surrounded by infancy and childhood? Do you dread, above almost all things in the world, excitement and parade?

Does your friend hate nothing so much as his own thoughts and reflections? Does he dread, also, like the cholera or the plague, all efforts at mental or moral improvement? Does he hate improving conversation—and above all, those books and associates which have the improvement and elevation of the body and spirit, for their great and leading object? And have you a different taste—entirely so? Do you live—do you eat, drink, sleep, wake, exercise, dress, labor, play, converse, read, and think, and pray that you may become wiser, and better, and holier?

In short, is the ultimate object of the one, the gratification of self; and does all, with him, terminate in the external; while the other seeks primarily, in all things, the improvement, the holiness and the happiness of herself and others? How can such persons be suitable companions for each other? Can two walk together, says the Scripture, unless they are agreed—that is, agreed as to the main points and purposes of life?

I know of no being whom I so much pity, as a young woman who, believing, perhaps, that a "reformed rake," once handsome, or it may be, a wit, makes the best companion, becomes chained for life to a stupid, shiftless creature—one whose energies of body and soul are exhausted, and seem unsusceptible of being renovated or restored—one, too, with whom, in that more intimate acquaintance which time and circumstances afford her, proves to be totally unworthy of her hand or her heart!

I have said that I know of no being so pitiable, as a young woman thus situated. I know of none, I mean to say, except a young man in similar circumstances. Did the effects of these unhappy companionships terminate on themselves, the misfortune would not be so great. Woman, at any rate, with her fortitude, might endure it. But it is not usually so; and here is the great evil. Misery is inflicted on a new generation; one that has done nothing to deserve it.

Let me entreat my readers, therefore, while I urge them to regard the companionship of which I am now speaking as a matter of duty, to be exceedingly careful in their selection of a companion. Choose; but do not be in haste. On the wisdom of your choice, much more depends than you can now possibly imagine:—it is for your life. Would you could realize this truth: for though so old and so often repeated that it may appear rather stale, it is not the less true for its age.

Have nothing to do, above all, with those who despise your sex. There is a large number of young men—much larger, indeed, than you may be aware, who have caught the spirit, not to say sentiments, of Byron, in regard to woman.

They have caught them, I say; but this, perhaps, is not so. I will only say they have them. I know not how, as a general fact, they came by them. I can only say that they are often very early imbibed; and that they grow with their growth, and strengthen with their strength. Would to Heaven this utter skepticism in regard to female worth and purity could be removed; or rather prevented. It is the bane of social life—as I could show, were I disposed to do so, by a thousand illustrations.

As a general rule—to which, perhaps, there are some exceptions—it is according to human nature to suspect others to be wanting in those virtues which we are conscious we are wanting in ourselves. Find a person wanting in sterling integrity, and he is the very person to be found complaining of the want of it in others. I will not say that his complaints are not sometimes—indeed, quite too often—just; I only say, that whether just or not, neither his suspicions nor complaints prove them to be so.

Beware, then—I beseech you, beware—of the young man who is ever prating about the innate worthlessness, not to say vice, of your sex. I do not say, reject him forever, simply on suspicion; for that would be to go to the other extreme. But though I have admitted that there may possibly be exceptions in regard to the general rule I have laid down, I also insist that they are rare. Therefore, I again say, be wary in forming your friendships—and especially so, in suffering them to become more and more intimate.

Precisely in these circumstances is it, that you may derive immense benefit from a discreet female friend. But in this, too, you must be deliberate, and use great judgment; for there are many whose views on this subject are such as entirely to disqualify them for the office of an adviser. I remember hearing a lady of great gravity—though of much good sense in all other respects—say, that she thought the friends of a young woman were much more competent to select a companion for her, than she was to make the selection for herself. I was so struck with the remark, that not knowing but I misapprehended her meaning, I ventured to inquire whether she really meant to say, that other people could judge better in regard to selecting a companion for life, than the parties most concerned in the choice. To which she answered, Yes, without hesitation; and immediately went upon a defence of her opinion. I was as little pleased, however, with the defence, as with the assertion; for the whole thing carried absurdity on the very face of it. It cannot, surely, be so; it is contrary to the very nature of things.

I cannot help counselling you to be as wary of such an adviser, as of the friend to whom she would direct your attention. The choice—the final choice—be it never forgotten, rests on you: because on you rests the responsibilities. While, therefore, you seek, with great earnestness, for advice, seek it as advice only. Neither seek, nor admit, in any case, a dictator.

Be it also ever remembered, that it is your duty to sift, with great care, the opinions and views of one in whom you are daily becoming more and more deeply interested. If it be even true, that woman is not distinguished for perseverance, let this fact only stimulate you to use what powers of perseverance you possess. Though you are not to be held responsible for the exercise of talents which you have not, you are to account for what talents you have; and fearful may be the reward of the individual who is found delinquent in the matter before us; fearful in this life, even were it possible to escape punishment in the life to come. Let a comparison, then, be faithfully made of your views on all important subjects:—as female superiority or inferiority; selfishness and benevolence; dress and equipage; education of ourselves and others; discipline—its means, instruments and ends; household management; amassing property; the chief end of human existence; particular duties, &c.

While I would encourage every young woman to look forward to married life as a matter of duty, I am very far from desiring to encourage that indiscriminate conversation, which, among young women, is rather common. Let it be discussed by the young, chiefly in the company of their parents. Above all, let not females be found talking with great interest on this subject in the presence of the other sex. Such conversation, in such circumstances, is evil, and only evil, in its tendency.

Parents may prevent this mistake in young women, if they will. The mother, at least, can prevent it. Where mothers manage the matter as it ought to be managed, you will not find daughters, on going into company, so deeply interested in these matters that nothing seems so to loosen the tongue, light up the countenance, and brighten the eye, as conversation about the latest engagements and marriages, and nothing so much or so quickly interest them in a newspaper, even a religious one, and that, too, on the Sabbath, as the list of marriages. Alas! do mothers or daughters know what are the practical common sense inferences from this conduct, where it greatly abounds.

Remember, moreover, in this matter, as well as in all other matters which concern your own happiness and the happiness of others—in this matter, I might say, which concerns your happiness more than almost all others—to seek the direction of that Being who has said, "If any lack wisdom, let him ask of God." You cannot, surely, obey this first injunction on the human race, without first and always, at every step of your course, seeking for his approbation. You cannot, in one word, be concerned in a duty which may involve the destinies—present and eternal—of millions and millions of human beings, without looking upward toward the throne of God, and soliciting, with all the humility, as well as confidence, of the most devoted child of an earthly parent, that wisdom and guidance which are to be found in all fulness in the Father of lights, and which, when properly apprehended, can never mislead you.