The Fear of being Single. Faith, and Moral Courage needed. Marrying to gratify friends. “Match makers.” Self-will. To leave an Unpleasant Home. To obtain a Home. Practices in Mexico and France. Marrying for Wealth. Offer in Texas. Personal Beauty. A noble example. Fancy. Influence of Novels, and impure Poetry. Flattery. Passion. Personal Bravery. Custom, in island of Borneo. Proximity. Family Connections. Persian marriages. Marrying from the cradle. Personal Distinction. Nobility of Naples. Tragedy in Philadelphia. Love of Conquest and Power. Madam Gamarra of Peru. To escape Toil and Care. Marrying to Reform. Being importuned. From a Sense of Duty. As a Business transaction.

To attempt the enumeration of all the inducements which may lead a young woman to marry, were perhaps a hopeless task. So complex are our motives that it is difficult to analyze them correctly, or even to say with confidence what was the sole motive operating on the mind in any particular action. This difficulty is increased, where the affections are concerned. They are too subtle and ethereal in their nature, to be subjected to minute examination. I shall, therefore, only promise in this chapter to endeavor, as I am able, to treat of a part of the reasons for marriage, as they affect most persons in actual life.

At the head of these stands the fear of being Single. There is supposed to be some latent and terrific evil in remaining unmarried. The imagination of the girl depicts its loneliness, its desolation, the blight it must shed on every gentle and happy emotion, the reproach it must bring on her from her entire circle of acquaintances, and the pride with which her more successful companions will look down upon her. These and other features in the picture become so fearful to contemplate, that she resolves to embrace the first opportunity to escape so awful a dilemma. She will engage herself as soon as practicable, lest she should outstand her day, and be left in the dread condition of an “old maid.” Hence a train of miseries.

To prevent this calamity,—for it often proves a serious one,—I would recommend the culture of two virtues, Faith, and Moral Courage.

There is no cause for a young woman, in any ordinary circumstances, to fear that she shall be left single. How very few are they, who deserve the attentions of the other sex, and yet never receive any overtures for marriage. Where the means of support are so equally distributed, and where girls are so well trained, as they are usually in this country, nearly every young man is married, and of course finds somewhere a companion. Have then Faith that you will not be neglected. This will do much to inspire that modest conduct, which attracts so powerfully the opposite sex. It will also lead you to a course of steady preparation, in all respects, for marriage, and thus both insure your entrance on that state, and qualify you for its duties.

Cultivate Moral Courage. It is better to wait this year and next, and many years, rather than, for the sake of appeasing the popular cry, to throw yourself away on a dolt, or a villain. What consolation can it be, when bound to such a companion for life, to reflect, that you have escaped the odious name of an “old maid?” Better ten lives of singleness, than a few years of that wretchedness so often occasioned by marrying simply and solely for fear of being single.

Others marry to gratify their Friends. This world abounds in match-makers. They are, too, of all descriptions; some true friends to the parties concerned in their management, perhaps their parents; others entirely indifferent in this respect; others mere busy bodies, burning for the excitement of love affairs, for new offers, engagements, and weddings.

As regards the agency of friends in these matters, I believe little good ever comes of their plans and efforts. Where they succeed, there are fearful chances that the individuals, intended to be benefitted, will have cause to rue the consequences. It is far better to let nature direct, or rather to leave Providence his own modes of operation, instead of attempting to force, or urge, what should be left entirely to the feelings, judgment, and taste, of the parties involved.

For those meddlesome creatures, who spend their days in instigating others to love, I can only say, they will have a dark account to render in the end. There is no more despicable character than a finished “manoeuverer.” It implies a meanness, that can pry into the corners of others’ affairs, an indolence, that neglects one’s own proper business, and a mental vacuity, and a littleness of purpose, which are the dread of every noble mind. Beware of the impertinence of such persons. Be very sure that you give not your hand and heart where they point, instead of following, as you ought, your own good sense, and the promptings of affection.

There are those of an opposite description, who marry to gratify Self-will, and to shew their independence of advisers. This is the more dangerous error of the two. The law of the Laplanders on this subject is not without some reason, severe though it certainly is; it is there death to marry a girl without the consent of her friends. The instances in which this occurs are rare; yet there are those who, through pride and perversity, choose to be miserable in their own way rather than happy in one proposed, or sanctioned even, by others. Young women are sometimes disinterested in the indulgence of a passion, for they do it to their own injury, and to the sorrow of their relatives. Because advised to marry a particular gentleman, they set themselves in array against him. Or, blind to those faults, which every one else discovers, and warns them against, they commit their destiny to the actually abandoned. I knew one of this class, who, in spite of all remonstrance, married an intemperate man, and who went even so far as to say, after his death, which resulted from this vice, “that she never saw her husband intoxicated in his life.”

Some marry to remove from an Unpleasant Home. They are obliged, perhaps, to work hard for a small compensation, or for none. The mother is unkind to them, or the father is morose. The daughter receives frequent hints about her support, or, of her marriage being necessary to make her “respectable” among her companions; or, the parents talk of their own early engagement, &c. This conversation awakens a strong desire to escape dependence upon them. Other circumstances serve to alienate a female from the place of her birth, her town, or village, and she is induced to sacrifice herself to any one who proffers his hand.

But is it not

By an ill-assorted match, a lady is placed in a situation, where, let her have suffered as she might previously, her condition is nearly certain to be made worse by the change. Under the parental roof, she enjoyed much liberty; but now she is chained to one spot, and must receive to her bosom, a being, who inflicts pangs on her spirit. The die is cast; she is enslaved by a perpetual master. Piteous is her doom.

Many are married to obtain a Home. They desire an establishment; the prospect of having no dwelling, which they can call “their own,” fills them with restless apprehensions. They crave some special protector, in whom they may merge, as it were, their own being, and be thereby released from personal responsibilities; one on whom they may lean for the gratification of every wish and want. Like the emigrant who leaves the tough soil of New England, for the glorious West, they imagine that their exchange is to release them from toil, and crown them, at the same moment, with plenty.

Such expectations are delusive. Woman was not created for this absolute and unlimited ease. Neither single, nor married, can she subsist with comfort to herself, except by being largely endowed with self-dependence. As a wife, she will not be caressed and cherished in one cloudless day, even though her husband prove the kindest of his sex. She must do and suffer much for his sake, or the bonds of their love will soon be as flax amid flames. If she enter the marriage state with any other design than to devote herself to her family, to toil more, instead of less, than she now does, either by mental or manual exertions, or by both, let her be assured of a fearful disappointment. She may promise herself, in a pure connection, great joy, much to compensate her sacrifices, but a life of ease and entire freedom from care, let her never anticipate.

There are ladies compelled, I am aware, to seek a home by matrimony, through the influence of their parents. This may be exerted, as in Mexico, indirectly, through solicitors and by management, or, like the French, the parents may negotiate the marriage in person, if not in form, yet by such methods, as to leave the daughter no alternative, but to accept such shelter abroad as any suitor may propose to her.

Rise, I entreat you, above this servitude. There is a method, by which you may provide an habitation for yourself. Prepare so completely to earn your own livelihood, that no one, friend or foe, dare say of you, “she is obliged by her helplessness to marry some one.” There are honorable avocations, and not a few either, in which every young woman can support herself. Let all be acquainted with some of them, with one at least. Then may they listen to overtures of marriage, with the feeling, that, as for a home, that, they have already secured by the skill of their own mind and hands.

Young ladies sometimes marry for Wealth. They have been educated to regard this as the criterion of excellence. A man’s “worth” is reckoned, not in moral attainments, but in dollars and cents. He, therefore, who is poor, is set down as beneath much consideration. From her earliest days, the girl has, perhaps, heard her parents talk of “being well-settled,” of “a good establishment,” and “a handsome property,” as the sine qua non of married life. In Tartary, a young man must purchase his bride, and if too poor to give money, he must serve her father four or five years. If a richer rival presents himself before the term of service expires, the first suitor is dismissed; he can claim only wages for his work. How many parents in this civilized and Christian land, thus sell their daughters. Give the transaction whatever smooth name you please, it is, after all, a bargain and sale.

Legislators, it appears, sometimes openly and directly encourage this traffic. The Congress of Texas recently offered a premium of nearly three thousand acres of land to every woman who would marry a citizen of Texas, who was one at the declaration of Independence.

Let me warn my female friends against this influence. Marry for riches alone, and you will be a neglected, unhappy wife, as sure as gold is not kindness. How many of your sex have sold their honor for paltry lucre. Our cities contain awful testimonies to this fact. Beware of that path, which leads in this fearful direction. Marry only a good man. Heed the advice of Themistocles to that Athenian, who consulted him in relation to the marriage of his daughter. She had two suitors, one a man of worth with a small fortune, the other rich, but in low repute. “I would bestow my daughter,” said he, “upon a man without money, rather than upon money without a man.”

Never fear to form this connection with an individual of merit, though his circumstances be humble. Poverty indeed is often the nurse of rare virtues. It imparts energy, prudence, and industry, when rightly regarded. I like the reply of the Irish maid, when reminded of the extreme poverty of herself and her lover. “Sure, two people eat no more when they’re together, than they do when they’re separate.” And if this were not true, there are advantages in equality of condition which often render such alliances among the most happy ever found on earth. God will bless those who act from principle and affection, as in all other relations, so in the formation of the marriage tie.

Woman sometimes gives herself to Beauty of Person. She is led captive by a fair face and an elegant exterior. These cases are less frequent than those, in which men marry for beauty. Still, they do occur, and although outward graces are not to be contemned more than other gifts of Providence, yet she who bestows her hand for their sake alone is a victim to folly. Should such be free from impure passion, they still build their hopes on a foundation of straw. In the conflict of life, we need, in our nearest friend, inward charms. Where these are wanting, our lot is pitiable indeed.

There are vain men, so weak, as to pride themselves on external attractions alone. But they are hollow-hearted. Woe to her, who commits her happiness to one of these shells of humanity. She is trusting to a treacherous hope. Her love, far from being pure, is that which

Not a few marry from Fancy alone. They are attracted toward a gentleman by his manners and external appearance. They conceive a liking for another, because he has a pleasant voice, or an engaging smile, or is full of gaiety and wit. The influence of these qualities is felt by us all; nor is it wrong to give them some weight, in forming our estimate of one as a companion. But what are they all, if disconnected from a praiseworthy character? She who gives her heart, for this poor price, will sometime awake to a sense of her delusion. The imagination has an influence, perhaps an unavoidable one, on the affections. We invest a favorite with ideal charms, and put out of sight his faults. But in contemplating the solemn relation of marriage, no lady should abandon the exercise of her reason. Love, it is said, often so excites the fancy as to call forth effusions of poetry, where they were hitherto unknown. But woe to her, who cheats herself with the belief that the creature of her imagination is a real being, who will not listen to the counsels of understanding, but rushes blindly down the precipice, which, with one open eye, she might easily have foreseen.

A recent writer, in giving advice to young ladies, speaks of “novels and tales,” and especially of the “best fictions of our day, as holding up to view the mistakes and faults, which young persons are most likely to commit on the subject of love and matrimony, in such a way as is likely to prevent their repetition.” With deference to one so intelligent in her remarks on other topics, I must differ from her on this. I believe that the reading of novels almost uniformly operates unfavorably on the female heart. In the first place, fictitious writings are very seldom read, except for the sake of the story. Let the author append a moral to his book, who thinks of stopping to read that? But again, where is the novel, which is an exact transcript of real life? There may be no one character in a work, that is not somewhat natural. Yet are the relations of each to all the others such as those in which we daily see people placed? Are not the remarks of the speakers often forced and strained? Do such loves occur in this working-day world? Are not the incidents, and the plot in general, indebted largely to the writer’s imagination, for the effect they produce on the reader?

It is the reading of fiction and impure poetry, more than all things else, I fear, which leads so many females to sacrifice themselves to unprincipled and base-hearted men. Instead of consulting these works, as a guide in marriage, let every one take counsel of her sober judgment. When “the dreams of youth are fled,” and the novel ceases to captivate, we shall be left in a pitiable condition, if united to a being whom we could give no good reason for marrying. Fancy alone, much more a mere whim, is a fearful agent, with whom to entrust our entire happiness for life.

There are those who accept the hand of another, because enticed by Flattery. The human heart is never more exposed to the poison of this insidious foe than in the affairs of love. A lady is beautiful, and she is praised to excess for her personal attractions. Her vanity is soothed, and her mind is so darkened, that she sees no bad motive whatever, and no blemish in the flatterer. “A woman,” says one well versed in our nature, “can always find a palliation for the misdeeds which are set in motion by her own beauty.” How often do we see the faults of the flatterer, in this way, actually converted into graces. Or a lady is but moderately well-favored, and is commended on that point where she felt a distrust of herself. The assurance of her charms rushes like a tide over her spirit, and she surrenders herself a victim to blandishments. Or she may be even personally plain. The praise of some one good feature, will then suffice, perhaps, to subdue her affections.

Is one more cultivated than her sex in general? He, who offers incense to her intellect, may intoxicate and win. How often does this kind of adulation succeed, where the commendation of personal attractions would have failed. But let her, who is subjected to gross and excessive flattery, ask her own heart, “Do I respect this individual? Has he my sober esteem? Can I look on his character, and say it is such as to give promise of happiness to his bosom companion?” These few questions would often dissolve the spell. If you marry one, such as I describe above, he may continue through the bridal month this delicious repast, but amid growing cares, when busy and anxious, you shall soon find that the syren voice is hushed. It will be you, who must then speak sweet words. To you, will he turn for those kind attentions, which the habit of being caressed and complimented, and never forgetting yourself, will have miserably prepared you to bestow.

It requires much watchfulness to shun the contagion of an earthly Passion, in forming the marriage tie. We should be perfectly certain that our impulses are all pure, that it is the moral and intellectual we prize in our friend. The spirit alone can profit us. An intemperate woman always shocks us beyond measure. She, who lives for the pleasures of the table, falls from the rank of her sex. All who would preserve their integrity, must guard against every gross and low tendency, and cultivate in their inmost soul a regard for character alone, and a desire of spiritual acquisitions, in their partner for life.

Some are charmed by personal Bravery. It is often remarked, that the female sex admire military characters. Being constitutionally timid, the courage they associate with the soldier, is to them always an attractive quality. They lean upon it fondly, for protection in their own physical weakness. In the Island of Borneo, no man is allowed to solicit a damsel in marriage until he has cut off the head of an enemy. To how many, in Christian lands, is personal prowess a primary recommendation, in a candidate for marriage.

Yet are not tenderness, fidelity, and constancy, quite as important in a husband, as physical courage? She who gives herself for a plume or an epaulet, or for the bravery they are thought to indicate, will learn, in after days, that although the oak be admirable for its stoutness, there are gentler trees one would desire in the garden of domestic love.

Many matches are made solely through the accidental Proximity of the parties. A young lady visits a friend often, and the brother, by being daily seen, engages her affections. Perhaps a gentleman boards in the family of her father. The simple circumstance of her being more in his society, than in that of others of his age, is the foundation of their marriage. There seems almost a fatality in these cases, they so often occur.

Now I am far from recommending a female to put on an unnatural reserve toward those she sees thus frequently; but let her recollect, that the mere fact of her interchanging so many thoughts and feelings with another, predisposes both to a more intimate connection. It is better, if the connection would be an improper one, to prevent such a consummation, by decided conduct in the outset, than by encouragements to induce an offer, you may feel compelled to accept. Are you much thrown by accident into the company of a particular gentleman? Be sure that your deportment toward him be not such as to mislead him, in regard to your estimate of his character. Avoid every thing that shall seem to make it a matter of course that you will marry him. Study his traits, and look on him in all respects precisely as you would on any other associate. Let it not be said by others that you are fated to marry a certain person, because you are so much in his society.

A young woman is often induced to marry a man for the sake of his Family Connections. They are, perhaps, wealthy, and have a high standing in society, on that account. Or, they are respected for their name and rank, as descendants of worthy ancestors. The friends deem it “a good match;” the alliance is desirable on many accounts. Who can think of rejecting overtures from so eligible a quarter? All this is said and done with much the same feelings as the crowned heads of the Old World negociate intermarriages with one another, in cold blood, and as a business transaction. If the parties are of about equal standing, as regards their relatives, it is called on each side, “marrying into a good family,” and what more can be desired?

Or, the lady may be raised in the world by connecting herself with a family superior, in fortune, or rank, to her own. To this surely, it will be said, no one can object. Were it not folly to lose so fine an opportunity of entering a renowned circle of relations? In Persia, the father first of all, selects a family, with whom he wishes to have his son connected. After this, he makes inquiries about the girl’s personal endowments. Is not something very like this often done in Christian lands? The leading question, in these cases, is, “What are the connections?” not, as it should be, the reverse of the practice in Persia, “Who and what is the individual particularly concerned?” The character, the principles, the disposition and heart of him, to whom a lady consigns her whole destiny, are thus actually put out of view, for the sake of his family! One may see, daily, alliances between individuals who come together evidently on account of their kindred alone; and who, for any congruity of disposition, or fitness of traits, might as well, like the English nobility, have been betrothed in their cradles.

Many females marry for Personal Distinction. A gentleman is eminent in the political world, or as an author and scholar, or in military fame, or for skill and success in his calling; or he shines in fashionable society. The origin of this practice may sometimes be found in early education. The parents are ambitious of elevating their daughter by marriage. They awaken in her hopes and expectations above her condition in life. They teach her, by their conversation and deportment, if not directly, that her “being’s end and aim” is to rise in the world.

The cases are frequent, in which a girl is encouraged to receive the addresses of one, who is deficient in almost every quality requisite in a good husband, merely because he is “a great man.” A writer observes that “love is our first toy, our second, display.” But here this is completely reversed. Display is the first toy; as for love, that is an inferior consideration. You shall see a young woman led to barter herself to a man who is ignorant, proud, selfish, and unkind. “Let the person,” says one, “be blind, lame, deformed, diseased, severe, morose, vicious, old, or good for nothing, if the parents can but a little advance their daughter above the quality or condition themselves have lived in, the poor child must be made a living sacrifice, and probably know no more happy days after the solemnization of her nuptials.” We are told that in Naples, it is not uncommon for a nobleman of decayed fortune, to send his daughters to a nunnery, because his means will not enable him to educate them for marriage in the highest circles of society. The recent tragedy enacted in the city of Philadelphia, was a mournful illustration of the dangers of parental ambition. A father had toiled for years, to amass wealth for the purpose of introducing his daughter to society in England, and elevating her to a high station in that land. She married contrary to his wishes, and in his fiend-like disappointment, wrought up to insanity, he actually murdered the victim of his rage, his own child. Why will parents thus attempt to coerce the chainless affections? Why should so many females consent to marry the objects of their aversion, nay, sometimes, of their disgust, for the sake of a name?

Woman has been known to marry from the love of Conquest, and the desire to rule. The female heart is susceptible of the love of power, and one may seek, or consent to join herself to, a husband, for the sake of having a subject, over whom continually to reign. We are told that Madam Gamarra, the wife of the President of Peru, is a “female Bonaparte, and though her husband is nominally the head of the republic, she is the real sovereign.” How many smaller empires exhibit the same unnatural picture. It is in vain to say that the wife is the more capable of the two. This by no means exonerates her from blame, who deliberately entered the marriage state with so little respect for her companion, as to cherish a determined purpose of lording it over him, as her inferior.

Ambition of power is always a dangerous principle of conduct. She who consents to marry another, without love, esteem, or respect for him, and merely to queen it over his life, can hardly possess the Christian temper. She is assuredly destitute of that chief grace of her sex, deep and sincere affection. Mrs. Phelps says, on this subject, that “Submission and obedience belong to everything in the Universe, except the Great Master of the whole. It is a law, that support and protection demand obedience. Hence, the child is bound to yield this tribute to its parent, and the people to the laws, and the wife to the husband.” This doctrine, although advanced by a female, is likely to meet with some remonstrance at this day. Yet surely, none will contend that the reverse of it, is a true one, that, contrary to the affirmation of Scripture, “the woman is the head of the man.” Let the maiden turn from such thoughts in her earliest days.

Some ladies exchange their single condition, in the hope of escaping thereby the Toils and Cares of life. They picture to themselves the felicity of having one constantly devoted to the supply of their wants, and waiting to gratify their every wish. This looks all exceedingly captivating, in prospect. They expect from their friend not only the same attentions as he rendered during their engagement, but an increased service, from his being ever near them and having nothing but their happiness to occupy him.

But can a lady anticipate these rivers of ease and pleasure, without securing the respect of her husband? No one, who reflects for a moment on the future, can do this. Does our friend expect the idolatry of her husband? She must recollect that “No respect,”—and, of course, no love,—“is lasting, but that which is produced by our being in some degree useful to those who pay it.” No age ever erected altars to gods destitute of good qualities. She, who would be worshipped in the heart of her bosom companion, can secure this homage only by deserving it through exertion. Married life must be one of care and toil. Let no female delude herself by imagining it to be otherwise. It brings, where hearts are wedded, as well as hands, joys and supports far more than sufficient to lighten its burdens. But burdens let none think to shun in it.

Instances are not wanting, in which woman has given herself to a vicious companion, in the belief that she could reform him. The stage has often produced dramas, in which the hero, after a long course of conduct utterly inconsistent with matrimonial happiness, has at length been suddenly converted to the ways of virtue. Hence the false and pernicious maxim, that “a reformed rake makes the best husband.” But in real life, it will be found that instantaneous changes, occurring on the eve of marriage, are usually adopted for the sake of appearances, and endure only so long as policy requires.

Dr. Dwight observes well on this point, that “nothing but folly can lead us to expect that this institution can change the whole nature of those who enter into it; and like a magical spell, confer knowledge, virtue, and loveliness, upon beings who have neither.” She who marries a man, that is addicted to immoral practices, incurs fearful hazards. Not only does she risk her personal happiness, from his vicious conduct, but she exposes her own character. Who can tell that, instead of being reformed by her, the husband may not entice her into his own sins, or into those equally ruinous? Will she calmly commit herself to the talons of the vulture, in the hope of taming his ferocity, and changing entirely his habits? The experiment is one which no woman of ordinary prudence will try.The temptation I allude to is likely to be presented to many of this sex, especially in populous places, where the vices cluster. Had I a friend thus exposed, I would entreat her to beware of looking with the least partiality on a profligate, or an unprincipled man. “Let him be a very courtier, for his grace and agreeableness in conversation,” I would say to her, “be not you ensnared by his tongue.” By a strange paradox, the worst men sometimes fancy and select pious females for their wives. I do not deny that cases occur, in which the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the believing wife. But if gross sins be added to a want of religious faith, I contend that no woman is justified in forming this connection. Should she detect such traits and practices in her lover, on the eve of their marriage, she is bound to dismiss him. God will provide a lamb, if we come boldly to the altar, and keep not back our dearest affection.

Some females have consented to bestow their hand, without a gift of the heart, upon one who importuned them by ceaseless addresses. They did not love, nor could they, where consent to marriage was yielded with such reluctance. Perhaps some considerable aversion to the union was expressed, but it was at length abandoned, as they thought, from necessity. “I am fated,” such an one will say, “to marry a person I cannot love, and so it must be.” We have known many instances, in which it was paradoxically asserted, that the lady “married a certain gentleman to get rid of him.”

The sentiment of compassion, has a large share in some of these cases. A suitor relates his troubles again and again; his happiness will he forever blighted; he shall even sicken and die, if rejected. Desdemona listens to the story:

But alas, from pitying, the steps are few to “embracing.” To relieve such sufferings, a lady resigns her every prospect of peace and comfort.

How many, indeed, after once rejecting a suitor, are moved by his renewed entreaties, to sacrifice themselves, merely to assuage his flowing tears. They think it a duty, it may be, to forego every hope of happiness, to fly in the face of certain evil and woe, rather than see one so pained by a refusal.

Benevolence deserves commendation in all cases. Yet not always is it the result of sound judgment, or the demand of duty to marry one, because importuned to that step. He, who waits at your feet and implores acceptance, might not be so miserable after all, as he and you imagine, should you decline his overtures. In the cares of a busy world, he may find a draught of the waters of Lethe. His affections,—if it be a pure and deep love that impels him, and not insanity or mental intoxication,—may be turned into other channels, and the remnant of his life prove, after all, an endurable evil. He may be directed to a companion, who will render his lot far more agreeable than it could be, had you, with the feelings under which you separated, been his wife.

Besides, the instances are very rare in which a female is required, for the gratification of an importunate lover, to do what she feels must be suicidal to her own peace. As a Christian, she is bound to love others as herself, if you please, even as much as herself; but not more. If she offer up all her self-love, and take a course intended exclusively for the gratification of another, does she not go then beyond the gospel command? There are cases in which this may be a duty, but let a young woman ponder long and seriously, before concluding that hers is of that number. It may call for great energy to withstand importunities. She may sometimes feel that her resolution must give way; but let her consider the future, a whole life of aversion from one ever at her side, and if this seem her inevitable doom, did she now marry, she will remain firm in her purpose to the last.

Nearly related to the class just described, are those who marry under the impression that it is their Duty to form this connection with some one. Public opinion demands it, as a matter of course; their parents have always conducted, as if this was their view of the subject, and the daughter conscientiously believes that she must conform to it. Now, if what I have hitherto said is correct, there is no such thing as an unconditional obligation to marry. It is a duty only when circumstances favor it. If there be decided objections against the character of the one, or the many, who may have made overtures of marriage to a young lady, it has never yet become her duty to marry. On the contrary, she is solemnly bound still to remain single, to wait until Providence indicates to her a prospect of so changing her situation, as to enhance her usefulness and happiness.

Marriage is regarded too often as a Business transaction. It is entered upon for prudential reasons alone; the heart is not interested, nor, of course, given at the altar. In our country, where all things take the form of traffic, there is especial danger that the most sacred bond which man can form, will bear a mercantile aspect, by being rudely exposed in the market place. Let prudence have her office in this matter, but let it always be subordinate to a higher principle. Affection should prompt and impel; discretion ought only to act as a guide, a light, and counsellor, never as an originator and master, in matrimonial concerns. There is a wide chasm between imprudence and rashness in this transaction, and a Stoical sale of the hand, while the heart is kept back.

Some marry from Gratitude. They have received pecuniary aid from another; or they have been assisted by him in sickness; or he was their friend in their afflictions or troubles. But can they not express their gratitude otherwise than by marriage? If the single act, or few acts, of past favor, deserving though they be in themselves, constitute his sole claim to their hand and heart, let them be slow in the gift.