own plan of life, even if it does differ more or
less from their parents. Exceeding gentleness
and yet firmness, perfect respect in word and
deed, straightforwardness, honesty, and yet a
courageous self-dependence, will rarely fail to
win their way under ever such difficult circumstances.
And one hardly knows which to despise
most—the cowardice which looks like reverence,
and the underhandedness which shams obedience,
or that open rebellion which hastily assumes the
position, more degrading to itself than to the
worst of parents—that of a " thankless child."
One word more, on that prime source of
misery between parents and children: marriage.
Unquestionably, if any third human being has
a right to interfere in the choice which two other
human beings make of one another " for better,
for worse," it is a parent. No one else! neither
brother, sister, aunt, uncle, cousin, nor any of
the numerous relations and friends who always
seem to consider a projected marriage their
especial business, and not that of the lovers at all.
But, happily, in our country at least, none of
these, nay, not even parents, have absolute legal
authority, either to make or to mar the divine
institution of holy matrimony. Either John or
Mary may, having arrived at years of discretion,
at any time walk out of the paternal house and
into the nearest church, or register office, and
marry anybody. And if the marriage be at
all creditable, even society will wink at it; nay,
perhaps smile at the " indignant parients." But a
higher law than that of society enacts that such a
decided step should not be taken until the last
extremity.
Most natural are all the hesitations, doubts,
pathetic little jealousies, and pardonable
touchinesses of parents about to lose their children.
It is hard to see your winsome girl, the flower of
your life, plant herself, in her very sweetest
bloom, in another man's garden. Hard, too, to
watch your best loved son so absorbed that he
has neither eyes nor ears for mother, sister, or
any creature living, except " that young woman."
Nevertheless, that a man should leave father and
mother and cleave unto his wife, is a law so
immutable, so rational, that those who selfishly set
their faces against it, parents though they be, are
certain to reap their punishment, They may live
to see sons, whom they have thwarted in a pure
first love, turn to a coarse passion degrading and
destroying to body and soul; daughters, denied
a comparatively humble engagement with some
honest penniless lover, fretfully " withering on
the virgin thorn," or seeking loveless worldly
marriages, which are the crushing out of all
womanliness, everything that by making life
happy, would also have made it worthy.
Sons and daughters will marry, and they
ought to marry. Selfishness alone would
hinder in any young man the lawful desire for a
home of his own, or in any young woman the
natural instinct for some one dearer than father,
mother, brother, or sister, however precious these
all may be. Every head, and every member of a
family who loves the other members wisely and
well, will not only not prevent, but encourage in
every lawful way, the great necessity of life to
both men and women, a prudent, constant, holy
love, and a happy marriage.
One word to the parents, which of course the
young people are not intended to hear.
Don't you think, my good friends, that
parents as you be, with every desire for your
child's happiness, it was a little unfair to give
your Mary every opportunity of becoming
attached to Charles, and Charles, poor fellow,
all possible chance of adoring Mary? Could
you expect him to see her sweet womanly ways,
which make her the delight of her father's home,
and not be tempted to wish her for the treasure
of his own? Is it not rather hard now to turn
round and object to their marrying, because,
forsooth, you " never thought of such a thing," or,
"Mary might have done better," or, " Charles
was not the sort of person you thought she
would fancy," or—last shift and a very mean
one—you " rather hoped she would not marry
at all, but stay with her old father and mother"?
Hold there! We will not suppose any parents
in their sober senses to be guilty of such sinful
selfishness. Let us pass to the next objection,
commonly urged against almost all marriages,
that the parties are the last persons which each
was expected to choose. Expected by whom?
The world at large, or their own relations?
The world knows little enough, and cares less,
about these matters. And sometimes, strange
to say, two people who happen really to love
one another, also know one another, a little
better than all their respected relations put
together—even their parents. They have made
(or ought to—for we are granting that the case
in point is no light fancy, but a deliberate attachment—
there is great meaning in that old-
fashioned word) that solemn election, binding
for life, and—as all true lovers hope and pray—
for eternity. They have cast their own lot, and
are ready to abide by it. All its misfortunes or
mistakes, like its happinesses, will be their own.
Give your advice honestly and fully; exact a
fair trial of affection, urge every precaution that
your older heads and tougher hearts may
suggest, and then, O parents, leave your children
free. If there is one thing more than another
in which sons and daughters who are capable of
being trusted at all, deserve to be trusted
unlimitedly, it is choice in marriage.
I have lived somewhat long in the world;
have watched many a love affair " on" and " off,"
gathering, rising, and breaking and vanishing
like a wave of the sea; have seen many a strange
union turn out well, and many a seemingly
smooth and auspicious one end in much
unhappiness; but I never saw any single instance in
which overweening irrational passionate opposition
to any marriage, on the part of parents or
friends, did not end in misery. It either forced
on to unsuitable and hasty union some fancy
or passion that might otherwise have died a
peaceful natural death, or it clouded, for years
at least, two innocent lives; or if this were
spared and the marriage accomplished, it sowed
seeds of strife and bitterness between families
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