The Young Woman's Guide
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How much uneasiness is here caused by being just about one minute (and no more) too late! And whence came it? Not by her not knowing she was running a risk by being tardy. Not that she had no apprehensions of evil. Not because her conscience was uneducated, or unfaithful. It was neither, nor any of these. There was, in the first place, a little want of decision. She suffered herself to vacillate between a sense of duty and the inclination to say a few words more, or bestow another parting kiss. And in the second place, it was the wretched habit she had always indulged, of delaying and deferring every thing she put her head or her hand to, till the very last moment.
I will give you a brief but correct account of her general habits. Not that the picture is a very uncommon one, but that you may view it in connection with the anecdote I have related, and thus get a tolerable idea of the inconveniences to which the wretched habit of which I have spoken, is continually exposing her.
She makes it a rule—no, I will not say that, for she has no rules, but she has a sort of expectation on the subject—to rise at five o'clock. Yet I do not suppose she is up at five, six times in the year. She is never awake at that timer or but seldom, unless she is awakened. Her husband, indeed, makes it a sort of rule to wake her at that hour; but he, alas, poor man! has no roles for himself or others; and if he undertakes to awaken her at five, it is usually ten or fifteen minutes afterward; and if she is let alone, she is often in bed till half past five—oftener, indeed, than up earlier. The breakfast hour is six; but I never knew the family to sit down at six. It is ten minutes, fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, and sometimes forty-five minutes after six, before the breakfast is on the table. The fire will not burn, and the tea is not ready; or the milk or cream for the latter has not arrived; or something or other is the matter—so she says, and so she believes—and indeed sometimes so it is.
The dinner time is half past twelve-that is, professedly so; but it is not once in twenty times that they sit down much before one o'clock—and I have known it to be even later. So it is with supper; and I might add, with every thing else. If an engagement is made, directly or indirectly, positively or only implied, it is never fulfilled at the time. She is never in her seat at church, till almost every body else is in, and the services have commenced; although the kind, but too indulgent parson waits some five or ten minutes for his whole congregation—whom, alas! he has unwittingly trained to delay. In short, she does nothing, and performs nothing, punctually, not even going to bed; for this is deferred to a very late hour-sometimes till near midnight.
Now herein is the secret—the foundation, rather—of her trouble at Lowell. Had she been trained to punctuality in other things, she would, in all probability, have been punctual there. The misfortune which I have described, is but a specimen of what is ever and anon occurring in the history of her life.
Nor are her sufferings—though they are severe—from her unhappy habit, the end of the matter. I have already more than intimated that her companion has caught the disease; but it is still more visible in the conduct of her sons and daughters. They, like herself, seldom do any thing at the proper time. They are never punctual in their engagements, nor decided in their conduct. I know not, however, what the daughters may yet do—several of them being quite young. If they should chance to meet with better instructions than they are accustomed to receive—should take warning, and do all they can in the way of self-improvement—they may be able to break the chains of an inveterate and almost unconquerable habit, and make themselves useful in their day and generation.
I do think, most sincerely, that if all the rest of the world were disorderly, or fell short in matters of punctuality, the young woman should not do so. Let her, in every duty, learn to be in time. Let her resolve to do every thing a little before the time arrives; nothing, a moment after it.
The keeper of a boarding house, who is at the same time the principal of one of our most flourishing schools for both males and females, makes it a point to have every one of his boarders in their seats at dinner, when the clock strikes twelve, which is the appointed hour.
And the late principal of a very highly distinguished female school in Boston, used to have every exercise regulated by a clock kept in the room; and whatever else was going on—whether it was finished or unfinished—whenever the hour for another exercise arrived, it was attended to. The whole school, as if with one impulse, seemed to obey the hour, rather than the teacher. Such order and punctuality, every where and in every thing, constitute the beauty of life; and I was going to say, the beauty of heaven—of which this life should be a sort of emblem. Heaven, in any event, is not only a world of order, but of punctuality also; and she who goes there, must be prepared to observe both, or it will be no heaven to her.
As I have strongly insisted in respect to the formation of other important habits, so in regard to this. It must be commenced in the smaller matters of life. Let the young woman be in time—that is, be punctual—in the performance of what she regards as trifles, and when she becomes a matron, she will seldom be tardy in what are deemed the weightier matters.
I have spoken of the importance of punctuality, and have strongly insisted that whatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing well. I am now about to insist, with equal earnestness, that what is worth beginning and performing well, is worth doing thoroughly, or finishing.
Some young women never do any thing thoroughly—even the smallest matters. All their lives long, they live, as it were, by halves, and do things by halves. If they commence reading a book, unless it is something very enticing and exciting, they neither read it thoroughly nor finish it. Their dress is never put on thoroughly; and even their meals are not thoroughly eaten.
In regard to what is last mentioned, they fail in two respects. Either through fear that they shall be unfashionable, if they use their teeth, or from sheer carelessness in their habits, they never masticate their food thoroughly; and they never seem to get through eating. The true way is, to finish a meal in a reasonable time, and then let the matter rest; and never be found eating between meals. Whereas, the class of persons of whom I am speaking, seem never to begin or end a meal. They are nibbling, if food chance to fall in their way, all their lives long.
But—to return to other habits than those which pertain to eating and drinking—this want of thoroughness, of which I am speaking, wherever it exists in a young woman, will show itself in all or nearly all she does.
Suppose she is washing dishes, for example; something is left unwashed which ought to have been washed; something is left only partly washed; or the whole being done in a hurry, something is not set away in its place, and along comes a child and knocks it over and breaks it.
Perhaps site is sewing. She is anxious to get her work along; and though she know, how it ought to be done, she ventures to slight it especially if it is the property of another. Or having done it well till she comes near the end, the place where, perhaps, every thing ought to be particularly firm and secure—ought to be done thoroughly—she leaves a portion of it half done; and the garment gives way before it is half worn.
Or she is cooking; and though every thing else is well boiled, a single article is not well done—which gives an appearance of negligence to the whole. At any rate, it is not done well; and she gets the credit of not being a thorough house-keeper.
"For who hath despised the day of small things?" is a scriptural inquiry on a most important subject; and were it not likely to be construed into a want of reverence for sacred things, the same inquiry might be made in regard to the matter before us. There is a universal disposition abroad to despise small matters, and to stigmatize him who defends their importance.
One might suppose a young woman would find out the mischiefs that result from a want of thoroughness, by the inconvenience which inevitably results from it. It is not very convenient or comfortable, to be obliged to do a thing wholly over again, or suffer from want, because a piece of work, very trifling in itself, was not done thoroughly. Nor is it very convenient to go and wash one's hands every time a lamp is used, because it was not thoroughly cleaned or duly put in order, when it should have been. Nor is it easy to clean an elegant carpet which has become soiled, or replace a valuable astral lamp, or mirror, which has been broken, simply for the want of thorough attention in those who have the care of these things. These little inconveniences, constantly recurring, might rouse a person to reflection, one would think, as effectually as occasional larger ones. We do not, however, always find it so.
Young people ought to consider what a host of evils sometimes result from a slight neglect. The trite saying—"For want of a nail, the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe, the horse was lost; and for want of a horse, the rider was lost"—will, however, illustrate this part of my subject. Had the single nail which was omitted—the last one—been driven, and driven properly; had the work, in short, been done thoroughly, the shoe, horse and rider might all have been preserved.
Do not dread the imputation of being over-nice or whimsical, if you do your work thoroughly. You must learn to regard your own sense of right—your regard to duty—as a thing of far more importance than either the sneers or the approbation of thousands of the unthinking. I have heard an individual of great worth and respectability complain of a young friend of his, because he made it a point to finish thoroughly every thing he undertook, and charge him with having what he called a mania for finishing, I remember, too, a very worthy, and, in the main, excellent farmer, who used to complain of a very conscientious son of his, because, forsooth, he was determined to finish every thing he began, in the best possible manner, without paying much regard to the opinions of others. But these facts only show that wise and good men may not fully understand the nature and power of habit—or the necessity of being thorough in small as well as larger matters. The first individual I have named, was forever suffering from his own want of thoroughness—and was miserable through life; and the last would have been far happier all his life time, had he been as much disposed to finish the things he undertook, as his son.
CHAPTER XX
EXERCISE
The muscles, or moving power of the body. Their number and character. Philosophy and necessity of exercise. Why young women should study these. Various kinds of exercise. 1. Walking. 2. Gardening and agriculture. 3. House-keeping. 4. Riding. 5. Local exercises.—Difficulty of drawing the public attention to this subject. The slavery of fashion. Consequences of the of fashionable neglect of exercise. A common but shocking sight.
This is a highly important subject; and it is connected with an unusual variety of topics. I beg the reader to exercise a little patience, therefore, if, on this account, I extend it to an unusual length.
It should not be forgotten, that the human body is moved from place to place, at the direction of the will, through the intervention of what are called muscles—of which there are in connection with the whole human frame, from four hundred to five hundred.
They are long bundles or portions of lean flesh, usually a little flattened and somewhat rounded at their edges, and terminating at one end—often at both—in a harder, flatter, white substance, called tendon, which is fastened to the bone.
But I need not—and indeed I cannot—in a work like this, enter upon a minute account of the human frame, or of any considerable portion of it; especially so considerable a portion of it as the bony and muscular systems. For such information, I must refer the reader to the work alluded to in a previous chapter—"The House I Live In"—and, if her leisure time will justify it, to still more extended works on anatomy and physiology, which can be easily obtained.
Of the philosophy, and even the necessity, of exercise, however, I need only say, in the present place—in addition to what has been said already—that much of human health and happiness depends on the proper development, and cultivation, and daily exercise of the whole muscular system; and that the health, and happiness, and usefulness of young women, are not less dependent on the right condition of the physical frame—the bones and muscles among the rest—than in the case of other classes of persons. I might even say, that of all classes of people in the world—parents and teachers alone excepted—young women are most imperiously called upon to attend to this subject.
It will now be my object to speak of the various kinds of exercise for young women; and to treat of them in what I conceive to be the order of their value.
1. Walking.—If I were residing in Great Britain, and writing for the perusal of young women there, I suppose it would hardly be necessary to urge very strongly the importance of walking as an exercise; for we are told by accredited travellers, that not only females of the middle and lower classes, but those of rank, also, are accustomed to this form of exercise, to an extent which would surprise the young women of this country. Neither do they go out attired in such a manner that a single drop of water would annoy them, or spoil their happiness; but they go prepared for the task. They have, as I understand, their coarser clothes, and shoes, and head-dresses, for the purpose.
But here, in the United States—among the female sex, especially—walking, like house-keeping and agriculture, has been, of late years, regarded as drudgery—fit for none but the poor, or the mean, or the eccentric. And when performed, it is seldom done in the love of it.
Now it is well known to those who have studied the subject of exercise, that, though walking is of inestimable importance—second, in all probability, to no other form of mere exercise—it is, nevertheless, of far the most value, when it is undertaken and pursued with pleasure. While, therefore, I recommend it to young women, I do it in the hope that they will not regard it as task-work—as mere drudgery. I hope they will regard it as a source of pleasure and happiness.
To render it such, something more is required than merely to walk, in a solitary manner, to a certain stone, or tree, or corner, or house—the mind all the while unoccupied by any thing agreeable or useful—and then to return as listless as they came. Such exercise, it is true, will move the limbs, and do much to keep the bones and muscles in a healthy state; and by the gentle agitation which is induced, will promote the circulation of all the fluids, and the due performance of all the functions of the body—except the function which pertains to the brain and nervous system. It will do all this, I say; but it will not do it so well, if the exercise is performed as a piece of task-work, as it would if it were done cheerfully and voluntarily.
I counsel the young woman, therefore, who wishes to derive the utmost possible benefit from walking, to contrive to make the exercise as agreeable as possible. To this end, she should endeavor to have before her—I mean before her mind—an agreeable object; or at least she should be accompanied by an agreeable companion. Both are desirable; but one of the two is indispensable.
As to the kind of object which should be held in view, I cannot, of course, say much; nor need I—for it makes but little difference, so far as the physical benefit to be derived from it is concerned. In regard to the moral and intellectual advantages, however, which are to be derived from it—to herself and to others—it makes a very great difference indeed. She who goes in company with one or two, or a small number of companions, on some benevolent errand—some work of mercy to the ignorant, the sick, or the distressed—at once secures all the physical, the intellectual, and the moral advantages to be derived by herself, and confers inestimable blessings on others.
Let it not be said that it is not he duty of young women to go on such errands of mercy. I know of no neighborhood, containing the small number of twenty families, in which there are not individuals who need to be fed, clothed, enlightened, encouraged, warmed or elevated. The more elevated their present condition, as a general rule, the more can be done to raise them still higher. The destruction of the poor, is their poverty; and in like manner, the destruction of the ignorant, is their ignorance. People must know something, in order to know more; and in like manner, must they possess something, in order to value our charities, and make a wise use of them.
If it should be urged, that in speaking of the advantages of walking, I have hitherto addressed myself to a small class of the community, only—that those who are compelled to labor, have not the time necessary for walks of love, instruction or charity—I reply, that this does not lessen the importance of what has been said to those individuals to whom it is applicable. Walking is nature's own exercise; and will always be her best, when it can be performed. Nor would many in New England think themselves so poor as to be unable to afford it, were they aware of a tenth part of its general importance, and did they but know how to live orderly and systematically. Two hours of active walking a day, are worth a great deal; and no one who can walk briskly and cheerfully, and without very great fatigue, three hours, need to complain of want of exercise. I must omit, of course, in a work like this, intended for young women, the mention of any motion more rapid than walking. Running, to those who have passed into their teens, would be unfashionable; and who could endure the charge of disregarding the fashions? Who could risk the danger of being regarded as a romp?
I am informed by a traveller of the most undoubted veracity, that females of the highest classes, in some parts of Europe—the daughters of Fellenberg, the Swiss educator, for example—do not hesitate, at times, to engage in the athletic and healthy exercises of skating and coasting. I have even been told that the same remark might be applied, to some extent, to the females of the state of Maine.
2. Gardening and Agriculture.—Here again I shall be treading on dangerous ground, as I am fully aware. As in the former ease, however, so in the present, I shall not be wholly alone. There are those who have dared to jeopardize their reputation by insisting on light agricultural and horticultural employments for females, young and old, who cannot, or who suppose they cannot find time for walking; and to the list of this sort of unfashionables, my name, I suppose, must be added. To those who do not and cannot enjoy the benefit of active and pleasurable walking abroad, these employments are unquestionably the best substitutes. When these are wholly depended upon for exercise, however, they should be pursued at least from two to four hours in a day; and the constitutions of some will require much more than even four hours.
Let not the hardy, healthy young woman alone, be employed in this manner. It is useful and necessary, indeed, to her; but it is still more so to her in whom, to a light skin with light eyes and hair, are joined a slender frame, a narrow chest, and an unnatural and sickly delicacy. Whether this delicacy is the result of staying in the house, almost entirely secluded from light, air, and the extremes of heat and cold, or is inherited, makes very little difference. She who has it needs a great deal of exercise.
3. House-keeping.—Next to walking, and agricultural and horticultural exercise, house-keeping—or, as it is familiarly called, house-work—is probably the most healthy, and ought to be the most agreeable. And yet the bare statement of the fact, will be enough to induce many a fair reader, as I doubt not, to turn aside with pain and disgust.
The reasons why this employment is so healthy, are many and various. One is found in the fact, that it requires such a variety of exercise. Like farming and gardening, it calls into action, in the course of a day, and especially in the course of a week, nearly every considerable muscle of the body.
All these exercises seem, at first view, to have some advantages over walking. It should be remembered however, that nearly every muscle, and tendon, and bone in the whole human frame, is agitated, if it is not employed, in walking; and if the limbs are employed much the most, still the continued action of the whole body, though gentle, is in a few hours quite sufficient for all the purposes of health.
Every young woman should be determined to attend to, and understand, every kind of house-work. If a few kinds—as washing, for example—seem to be beyond her strength, she should only attend to them in part, according as she is able. It is pitiable to see a young woman of twenty, twenty-five or thirty, who cannot make bread, or iron a shirt, or boil a pudding—ay, and who cannot make and mend clothes, if necessary—simply because she has never been required to do it. Still more pitiable is it, as I have already said, to find those who have never done it, because they thought it would be demeaning themselves—or because they have acted upon the principle of doing nothing for themselves or others, as long as they can help it.
It is scarcely possible that a young woman twenty years of age, has not had ample opportunities for learning to do all kinds of house-work, provided it has been her fixed resolution to improve them; and I am fully assured that house-keeping, actively and cheerfully pursued, in all its parts, is sufficient to secure a tolerable measure of health to every individual. And yet I am equally confident, that if walking, or out-of-door labor, were superadded to this, in the way I have proposed and recommended, she would derive from it many important advantages, besides being still healthier. Indeed, no person, in any employment whatever, is so healthy as to exclude all possibility of further improvement. It is not yet known how healthy an individual may become.
4. Riding.—Horseback exercise, for those who cannot enjoy any of the three modes of which I have already spoken, is excellent. It is particularly valuable where there is a tendency to lung complaints, whether induced by wearing too tight a dress, or in any other manner. It should not be forgotten, however, that if the chest is very greatly diseased, this exercise may be one of the worst which could be taken.
As to riding in a carriage, unless it is an open one, I must honestly say I do not like it, as an exercise for those who can secure that which is better. Indeed, except for a medicinal purpose, I always prefer one of the three kinds named above. And as for medicine, I would have young women so live, and especially so exercise, as to have no occasion for it. But on this subject I intend to say something in another place.
I do not believe life is long enough, in general, to allow us to indulge, to any great extent, either in what are commonly regarded as passive exercises, or in amusements, as such: I speak now of those who are above twelve years of age. Not that those who are over twelve, do not need amusement. I would have every thing amusing—or at least interesting. I mean simply to say, that walking, and running, and gardening, and farming, and house-keeping, usually involve enough of physical exercise for health; and that where these are duly attended to—or even any one of them—what are commonly called amusement's will hardly be needed. In earlier life, they unquestionably may be. But I do not think well of passive exercises for any person, so long as they can be avoided. And heterodox as the advice may be regarded, I cannot help counselling the young, above all, never to ride in an easy carriage, or a railroad, or in a steamboat or other vessel or ship, as long as they can pursue the lawful purposes of life, in a lawful and proper manner, by means of walking. It is soon enough to ride when we cannot walk.
Those who are desirous to glorify God in whatever they do, as Paul expresses it, will understand and feel the force of what I am now going to say; while those who make it their business, in this world, to seek happiness, without being careful to do it through the medium of personal excellence or holiness, will perhaps only smile at what they suppose is a mere eccentricity of opinion.