She said it would be sin, and I told her that I should have to answer for that, and that I was forced to do it because there was no other way to keep myself and help her, and I knew she could not work much for herself, and I was sure she would not live a day if we were turned into the streets. She tried all she could to persuade me not, but I was determined, and so I came here. I hated the thoughts of such a life, and my only reason for coming was that I might help her. I thought that, if I had been alone, I would sooner have starved, but I could not bear to see her suffering. She only lived a few weeks after I came here. I broke her heart. I do not like the life. I would do almost any thing to get out of it; but, now that I have _once done wrong_, I can not get any one to give me work, and I must stop here unless I wish to be starved to death."

This plain and affecting narrative needs no comment. It reveals the history of many an unfortunate woman in this city, and while it must appeal to every sensitive heart, it argues most forcibly for some intervention in such cases. The following statements of other women who have suffered and fallen in a similar manner will show that the preceding is not an isolated case. M. M., a widow with one child, earned $1 50 per week as a tailoress. J. Y., a servant, was taken sick while in a situation, spent all her money, and could get no employment when she recovered. M. T. (quoting her own words) "had no work, no money, and no home." S. F., a widow with three children, could earn two dollars weekly at cap-making, but could not obtain steady employment even at those prices. M. F. had been out of place for some time, and had no money. E. H.

earned from two to three dollars per week as tailoress, but had been out of employment for some time. L. C. G.: the examining officer reports in this case, "This girl (a tailoress) is a stranger, without any relations.

She received a dollar and a half a week, which would not maintain her." M.

C., a servant, was receiving five dollars a month. She sent all her earnings to her mother, and soon after lost her situation, when she had no means to support herself. M. S., also a servant, received _one dollar a month wages_. A. B. landed in Baltimore from Germany, and was robbed of all her money the very day she reached the sh.o.r.e. M. F., a shirt-maker, earned one dollar a week. E. M. G.: the captain of police in the district where this woman resides says, "This girl struggled hard with the world before she became a prost.i.tute, sleeping in station-houses at night, and living on bread and water during the day." He adds: "In my experience of three years, I have known _over fifty cases_ whose history would be similar to hers, and who are now prost.i.tutes."

These details give some insight into the under-current of city life. The most prominent fact is that a large number of females, both operatives and domestics, earn so small wages that a temporary cessation of their business, or being a short time out of a situation, is sufficient to reduce them to absolute distress. Provident habits are useless in their cases; for, much as they may feel the necessity, _they have nothing to save_, and the very day that they encounter a reverse sees them penniless.

The struggle a virtuous girl will wage against fate in such circ.u.mstances may be conceived: it is a literal battle for life, and in the result life is too often preserved only by the sacrifice of virtue.

"Seduced and abandoned." Two hundred and fifty-eight women make this reply. These numbers give but a faint idea of the actual total that should be recorded under the designation, as many who are included in other cla.s.ses should doubtless have been returned in this. It has already been shown that under the answer "Inclination" are comprised the responses of many who were the victims of seduction before such inclination existed, and there can be no question that among those who a.s.sign "Drink, and the desire to drink" as the cause of their becoming prost.i.tutes, may be found many whose first departure from the rules of sobriety was actuated by a desire to drive from their memories all recollections of their seducers'

falsehoods. Of the number who were persuaded by women, themselves already fallen, to become public courtesans, it is but reasonable to conclude that many had previously yielded their honor to some lover under false protestations of attachment and fidelity.

It is needless to resort to argument to prove that seduction is a vast social wrong, involving in its consequences not only the entire loss of female character, but also totally destroying the consciousness of integrity on the part of the male s.e.x. It matters not under what circ.u.mstances the crime may be perpetrated, none can be found that will exonerate the active offender from the imputation of fraud and treachery.

A woman's heart longs for a reciprocal affection, and, to insure this, she will occasionally yield her honor to her lover's importunities, but only when her attachment has become so concentrated upon its object as to invest him with every attribute of perfection, to find in every word he utters and every action he performs but some token of his devotion to her.

Love is then literally a pa.s.sion, an idolatry, and its power is universally acknowledged.

But this pa.s.sion can not be the growth of an hour. Its developments are gradual. From the first stage of mere acquaintance, it ripens progressively under the influence of tender words and solemn vows, frequently sincere, but often simulated, until the woman owns to herself and admits to her lover that she regards him with affection. Such an acknowledgment, virtually placing her future life in his custody, should inspire him with the high resolve to protect her name and fame, to justify the confidence she has reposed. But not unfrequently is it made the medium for dishonorable exactions, and for a momentary gratification, valueless to him except as a proof of her fervent adoration, and fatal in its consequences to her, he tramples on the priceless jewel of her honor, confidingly surrendered to this love and truth.

It should be remembered that, in order to accomplish this base end, he must have resorted to base means; must either have professed a love he did not feel, or have allowed his affection to cool as he approached its consummation. Pure and sincere attachment would effectually prevent the lover from performing any act which could possibly compromise the woman he adores. None but an unmitigated ruffian can calmly and deliberately wrong an unsuspecting female who has acknowledged a tender sentiment toward him, thus placing herself so entirely in his power. The crime of seduction can be viewed only as a mean and atrocious perjury, and strangely callous must he be whose conscience in after life does not pursue him with scorpion stings and fiery tortures.

But how account for the partic.i.p.ation of the female in the crime? Simply by viewing it as an idolatry of devotion which is willing to surrender all to the demands of him she worships; to the intensity of her affections, which absorbs all other considerations; to a perfect insanity of love, excited and sustained by a supposed equal devotion to herself. As soon as this conviction of a mutual love possesses her mind, as soon as her heart responds to its magic touch, she lives in a new atmosphere; her individuality is lost; her thoughts revert only to her lover. Devoted to the promotion of his happiness, she thinks not of her own; and only when it is too late does she awake from the spell that lures her to destruction. In such a case as this, a woman does not merit the contempt with which her conduct is visited. She has sinned from weakness, not from vice; she has been made the victim of her own unbounded love, her heart's richest and purest affections.

Moralists say that all human pa.s.sions should be held in check by reason and virtue, and none can deny the truthfulness of the a.s.sertion. But while they apply the sentiment to the weaker party, who is the sufferer, would it not be advisable to recommend the same restraining influences to him who is the inflictor? No woman possessed of the smallest share of decency or the slightest appreciation of virtue would voluntarily surrender herself without some powerful motive, not pre-existent in herself, but imparted by her destroyer. Well aware of the world's opinion, she would not recklessly defy it, and precipitate herself into an abyss of degradation and shame unless some overruling influence had urged her forward. This motive and this influence, it is believed, may be uniformly traced to her weak but truly feminine dependence upon another's vows.

Naturally unsuspicious herself, she can not believe that the being whom she has almost deified can be aught but good, and n.o.ble, and trustworthy.

Sincere in her own professions, she believes there is equal sincerity in his protestations. Willing to sacrifice all to him, she feels implicitly a.s.sured that he will protect her from harm. Thus there can be little doubt that, in most cases of seduction, female virtue is trustingly surrendered to the specious arguments and false promises of dishonorable men.[389]

The every-day experiences of life are amply sufficient to justify this opinion, for it is a fact that these specious arguments and false promises are continually resorted to by many men for the express purposes of seduction; and, nefarious as these cases confessedly are, still they form common incidents in the lives of some who claim to be what the world calls respectable! Men who, in the ordinary relations of life, would scruple to defraud their neighbors of a dollar, do not hesitate to rob a confiding woman of her chast.i.ty. They who, in a business point of view, would regard obtaining goods under false pretenses as an act to be visited with all the severity of the law, hesitate not to obtain by even viler fraud the surrender of woman's virtue to their fiendish l.u.s.t. Is there no inconsistency in the social laws which condemn a swindler to the state prison _for his offenses_, and condemn a woman to perpetual infamy _for her wrongs_? Undoubtedly there are cases where the woman is the seducer, but these are so rare as to be hardly worth mentioning.

Seduction is a social wrong. Its entire consequences are not comprised in the injury inflicted on the woman, or the sense of perfidy oppressing the conscience of the man. Beyond the fact that she is, in the ordinary language of the day, ruined, the victim has endured an attack upon her principles which must materially affect her future life. The world may not know of her transgression, and, in consequence, public obloquy may not be added to her burden; but she is too painfully conscious of her fall, and every thought of her lacerated and bleeding heart is embittered with a sense of man's wrong and outrage. Memory points to the many bright pa.s.sages in their acquaintance, and says, these shone but to ensnare you; to the many tokens of endearment received from her betrayer, and says, these were but so many arguments to effect your ruin; to the many vows he breathed, and says, these were but perjury; to the many smiles with which she was greeted, and says, these were but so many hypocritical devices.

She remembers the thrill of joy with which her heart so gayly bounded when he first told her she was beloved, and she contrasts her ecstasy then with her agonies now. She remembers, with detestation, the caresses he was wont to bestow. But, above all, she remembers, and her blood boils with indignation as the thought is forced upon her, that by these means he has wrought her shame. She has learned in the school of sorrow that man's promises of fidelity are valueless; and her future life, whether spent in sorrow and repentance for the past, or in a wild, impetuous career of subsequent vice, will be indelibly marked with the remembrance of his treachery. It can not be a matter of surprise that, with this feeling of injustice and insult burning at her heart, her career should be one in which she becomes the aggressor, and man the victim; for it is a certain fact that in this desire of revenge upon the s.e.x for the falsehood of one will be found a cause of the increase of prost.i.tution.

The probabilities of a decrease in the crime of seduction are very slight, so long as the present public sentiment prevails; while the seducer is allowed to go unpunished, and the full measure of retribution is directed against his victim; while the offender escapes, but the offended is condemned. Unprincipled men, ready to take advantage of woman's trustful nature, abound, and they pursue their diabolical course unmolested. Legal enactments can scarcely ever reach them, although sometimes a poor man without friends or money is indicted and convicted. The remedy must be left to the world at large. When our domestic relations are such that a man known to be guilty of this crime can obtain no admission into the family circle; when the virtuous and respectable members of the community agree that no such man shall be welcomed to their society; when worth and honor a.s.sert their supremacy over wealth and boldness, there may be hopes of a reformation, but not till then.

The following cases will exhibit some of the results of seduction: M. C., a native of Pennsylvania, seventeen years of age, was induced to run away from home with her lover, who promised to marry her as soon as they reached Philadelphia. Instead of keeping his word, he deserted her. She was afraid to go home, and had no means of living except by prost.i.tution, which she practiced for eight months in Philadelphia, and then came to New York to reside. Her father, a physician, died when she was about ten years old, and her mother subsequently married a hotel-keeper, in whose house the girl was reared, and to the a.s.sociations of which she probably, to some extent, owes her fall from virtue.

In one of the most aristocratic houses of prost.i.tution in New York was found the daughter of a merchant, a man of large property, residing in one of the Southern states. She was a beautiful girl, had received a superior education, spoke several languages fluently, and seemed keenly sensible of her degradation. Two years before this time she had been on a visit to some relations in Europe, and on her return voyage in one of her father's vessels, she was seduced by the captain, and became pregnant. He solemnly a.s.serted that he would marry her as soon as they reached their port, but the ship had no sooner arrived than he left her. The poor girl's parents would not receive her back into their family, and she came to New York and prost.i.tuted herself for support.

A. B., the child of respectable parents in Germany, was seduced in her native place by a man to whom she was attached. He promised to marry her if she would accompany him to the United States. She obtained the permission and necessary funds from her parents, and two days after they landed in New York her seducer deserted her, carrying off all the money she had brought from home. H. P., a school-girl, sixteen years of age, was seduced by a married man who now visits her occasionally. C. A. was seduced in New Jersey, brought to New York, and deserted among strangers.

M. R. was seduced by her employer, a married man. A. W. was seduced while at school in Troy, N. Y., and was ashamed to return to her parents. L. H.

followed a lover from England who had promised to marry her. When she arrived in New York he seduced and diseased her, and then she discovered that he was a married man. There is no necessity to multiply these cases.

"Drink and the desire to drink." We will alter an old saying, and render it, "When a woman _drinks_ she is lost." It will be conceded that the habit of intoxication in woman, if not an indication of the existence of actual depravity or vice, is a sure precursor of it, for drunkenness and debauchery are inseparable companions, one almost invariably following the other. In some cases a woman living in service becomes a drunkard; she forms acquaintances among the depraved of her own s.e.x, and willingly joins their ranks. Married women acquire the habit of drinking, and forsake their husbands and families to gratify not so much their s.e.xual appet.i.te as their pa.s.sion for liquor. Young women are often persuaded to take one or two gla.s.ses of liquor, and then their ruin may be soon expected.

Others are induced to drink spirits in which a narcotic has been infused to render them insensible to their ruin. In short, it is scarcely possible to enumerate the many temptations which can be employed when intoxicating drinks are used as the agent.

"Ill-treatment of parents, husbands, or relatives" is a prolific cause of prost.i.tution, one hundred and sixty-four women a.s.signing it as a reason for their fall. In consideration of their important relations to society, it may be well to inquire, What are the duties of parents, husbands, and relatives?

In all countries where the obligations of the marriage contract are recognized, one of its most stringent requirements is found in the necessity to provide for the children of such union. This is acknowledged as a moral duty on account of the relationship between parents and children; it is recognized as a religious duty because specially enjoined in Holy Writ, and it is regarded as a civil duty because the future welfare of any community must depend upon the training of its future citizens.

As to the moral duty, what arguments would be effectual to prove to a hard-hearted parent the necessity of bestowing a kindly education upon his child? Surely nature itself would supply all the necessary reasons. The still, small voice of conscience will whisper to him, I have been the instrument of bringing this child into the world, and I am therefore responsible for its welfare. And even plain, old-fashioned common sense (despised as it is since a certain philosophy has come into fashion) would say, I am the father of a child, and it is my interest to do the best I can for it.

The religious duties are abundantly enforced in the Scriptures. These, while requiring in explicit terms the obedience of children to their parents, and annexing to such commandment the only promise which the Decalogue contains, are equally plain in specifying the duties of parents.

These points are acknowledged by all sects and parties; and commentators or preachers, however much they may differ on questions of theology, or articles of faith, or rules of Church government, are unanimous upon the extent of parental obligation.

The civil duties are important for the reason already a.s.signed. Children will be our successors in this arena, as we have succeeded the patriot fathers who achieved our independence, and made us the people that we are.

The principles enunciated by every shot fired during the Revolutionary war have descended to us, but we are only trustees for their safe transmission to the next generation, and we shall be recreant to our duty, false to the memory of our ancestors, and traitors to our country, if we allow our children to a.s.sume the responsibilities that will naturally devolve upon them without due preparation for the sacred trust.

Having thus briefly alluded to the duties of parents, it remains to give some information as to the manner in which such obligations are performed, selected from the returns received in the progress of this investigation.

L. M., a very well educated girl: "I was seduced at eighteen years of age, and _forced_ to leave home to hide my disgrace." Admitting that this girl had been led into an error, the plain duty of her parents, in every point of view, was to endeavor to reform her instead of driving her from home.

Human nature, in its most favorable condition, is fallible; all are liable to error; but as all hope for forgiveness, so should they forgive. This is the doctrine of the sublime prayer taught by our Savior to his apostles; this is the duty of humanity. "The bruised reed He will not break," is a Divine promise from which poor finite man might draw a valuable lesson.

E. B.: "My parents wanted me to marry an old man, and I refused. I had a very unhappy home afterward." This case was directly in conflict with the dictates of nature. She had formed an attachment for a man who would, in all human probability, have made her a good husband, and caused her to remain a virtuous member of society; but her parents wanted her to marry an old man, and, in consequence of refusal, treated her with unkindness.

She has now, poor girl, to answer for her sin of incontinence, but who can tell what other offenses would have been laid to her charge had she married as desired by her parents? How many awful deeds recorded in the annals of criminal jurisprudence have been produced by ill-a.s.sorted marriages! How many outrages, how much bloodshed, owe their origin to such a cause! Parents who, for their own selfish purposes, would drive a daughter into a marriage repugnant to her feelings, deserve the severest condemnation. So far from performing their duty in the matter, they are acting in diametrical opposition to it.

C. B.: "My stepmother ill-used me." The stepmother in this case stands in the place of the natural parent. In a.s.suming the duties, she a.s.sumes all the responsibilities of the relation, and is equally guilty as if this girl were her own child. Women's feelings, in a normal state, are generally kind, gentle, and forgiving; but when they are perverted, she becomes more inveterate than man. So it was in this instance.

E. G.: "My mother ill-treated me and drove me from home. My father was very kind, but he died when I was seven years old." A similar case to the preceding in the perversion of feminine feelings, coupled with the melancholy fact that the girl's father, who had always used her kindly, died when she was a child. It would be natural to conclude that all the affections of a widow would concentrate upon her children, but the reverse of this is too frequently found to be true, and as soon as the husband to whom her vows were pledged is laid in the grave, and the children are deprived of his protecting hand, her love is alienated from them. A mother's duties to her offspring are increased by her husband's death, but she neglects them, and does violence to the maternal instinct.

M. B.: "I support my mother." It may possibly be objected that this case does not come within the scope of this section, as showing no positive neglect of parental duty, but, by implication, it is decidedly ent.i.tled to a place in the catalogue. It is, unfortunately for the sake of morality, but one of many similar instances which have been encountered, and some of which will be noticed in due course. The self-evident conclusion is, that if this mother had properly trained her daughter in early life, she would not now have to endure the agony arising from the knowledge that every morsel of food she eats, every article of clothing she wears, is purchased with the proceeds of her child's shame. It is difficult to imagine any position more disgusting than this--any circ.u.mstance more horrible than that of a mother quietly depending for existence upon the prost.i.tution of a daughter, with the certainty that the inevitable result of such a vicious course of life will drive the child of her affection to a premature grave and a dreadful eternity.

J. C.: "My father accused me of being a prost.i.tute when I was innocent. He would give me no clothes to wear. My mother was a confirmed drunkard, and used to be away from home most of the time." Here we have a combination of horrors scarcely equaled in the field of romance. The unjust accusations of the father, and his conduct in not supplying his child with the actual necessaries of life, joined with the drunkenness of the mother, present such an acc.u.mulation of cruelty and vice that it would have been a miracle had the girl remained virtuous. It is to be presumed that no one will claim for this couple the performance of any one of the duties enjoined by their position.

S. S.: "I had no work, and went home. My father was a drunkard, and ill-treated me and the rest of the family." Here is a specimen of a father's cruelty. His daughter is out of employment, and has no home but with her parents, and he, maddened with liquor, abuses her for flying to her natural protectors. Where was she to expect aid and comfort but from the authors of her being, and how was such expectation realized? She was forced to resort to prost.i.tution as a means of living.

C. R.: "My parents are rich. They would not let me live at home, because I had been seduced." In this case there was no excuse for parental unkindness. Blessed with an ample supply of this world's treasures, they could calmly see their daughter exposed to want and penury. Living in the enjoyment of opulence themselves, they could doom her to earn a miserable subsistence by a life of shame. Satisfied with their own lot, and complacently surveying the comforts which surrounded them, they condemned her to a course of infamy in which no enjoyment could be found to cheer her path; where every day must add fresh tortures to her lot, every hour sink her yet lower in the social scale. Why? Because an indiscretion or a crime--call it which you please--had made her a fitting object for their kindness; because her own act had placed her in a position where she felt her disgrace, and asked their sympathy and aid to retrace her steps. Can there be a more pitiable object than a woman who has sacrificed her virtue to the importunity, the entreaties, or the vows of her lover, when she reflects upon her conduct? The delirium of love is past, but the overwhelming sense of shame is left; she feels that a momentary act has blasted her future life; she knows that the world will condemn her, and the only resource she has is an appeal to her parents. If they kindly take her by the hand, in all probability the evil will extend no farther, and she may regain her position in life. If they refuse their sympathy, they practically drive her to a course of vice, for there is no other road open to her. Who, then, is responsible for her after-career but those who have the power to preserve her from farther guilt and shame?

J. A.: "I am the eldest of a large family. My father is a drunkard, and would not support his children. I have supported my parents, brothers, and sisters for the last five years." This is an example of an outrageous social crime which can not be contemplated without horror; the parents of a family, with their remaining children, relying for subsistence upon the aid furnished from the sinful earnings of the first-born! In this instance the economy of nature is reversed. The filial affection which leads a child to support her aged and infirm parents can be understood and appreciated, but it is impossible to reprobate too severely the conduct of a man whose own actions have reduced him to poverty, and who then encourages his daughter to lead a life of prost.i.tution that he may revel on money produced by a course of debauchery which he was mainly instrumental in producing.

A. B.: "My lover seduced and diseased me while I was working in a factory.

I went home, and my parents turned me out." Neither loss of character nor physical suffering were sufficient punishment for this poor girl, only eighteen years of age; nor could the probability of a future moral life induce her parents to pardon the first offense. They had sent her to work amid a.s.sociations which were almost certain to cause her ruin. This, of itself, is a sufficient ground for their condemnation, for they were in comfortable circ.u.mstances, and could not plead poverty as an excuse; and when this ruin was accomplished, they added to their former crime by refusing a shelter to the sufferer.

These cases are taken from actual facts. The words included in inverted commas are, as nearly as possible, those used by the women when being questioned. As to the truth of the statements, we hesitate not to believe them _all_ to be substantially correct. They are not a fiftieth part of the instances in which similar disclosures have been made, but they are sufficient for the purpose of argument, and to prove that the a.s.sertions made in other places rest upon a solid foundation, and are not mere fancies of the brain. It would certainly be much more to the credit of society if their authenticity were not so indisputable.

The foregoing examples strongly suggest and justify a farther consideration of the duties of parents. While these include the obligation to furnish a child with food and clothing, they do not stop at that point.

It would be erroneous, indeed, for any father to imagine he had fulfilled all the requirements of his position when he gave a child enough to eat and to wear. He would attend to the wants of his cattle in the same way, but there is something more to be done in the case of his children. He must so treat them as to induce, on their part, a sentiment of grat.i.tude.

Children are proverbially keen-sighted, and they seem to have a natural faculty for logic, so far as they themselves are concerned. They can very soon discriminate whether a parent is doing barely just as much as the laws of the country and the voice of public opinion require, or whether he is acting toward them with true paternal affection. In the former case they become selfish, and practice all their little arts to obtain as many advantages that the law allows them as possible, without entertaining any feelings of respect or affection toward their parents, because they know that such obligations can not be evaded without censure. In the latter case their grat.i.tude and affection forms a return for the kindness bestowed. They immediately perceive that they are loved, and, as a natural consequence, endeavor to manifest love in return, by acting in a manner most pleasing to their parents. By simply encouraging this sentiment, children can be moulded much as the father wishes, whereas, by destroying it, he loses one of the most effective aids to his government. There are so many different ways by which this affection for children can be manifested, and they are all so simple and so certainly effective, that it is scarcely possible to conceive how any man or woman of the most ordinary intelligence can overlook them.

In addition to providing for the personal wants of his family, their education claims a large portion of the parents' care. Not only the mere tuition imparted in schools, but a careful training at home, as preliminary to their conflict with the world, is required. It is the instruction and advice given in the quiet of the domestic circle that exercises the most powerful influence, most effectually shapes the destiny of the future man or woman. No person is justified in delaying the performance of this duty. So soon as a child can talk and walk, so soon is this guidance necessary. It would be an interesting and important matter of investigation to ascertain, if possible, the time of life at which children become influenced by the temptations which surround them. The result would show a much earlier age than is generally supposed. A boy, when playing with his companions, overhears an improper expression from one of them. His mind retains it, and it may prove the germ from which habits of profanity subsequently spring. A girl may notice an improper action, which will rest upon her memory, and produce sad fruit hereafter.

Thus the education of children for the ordinary duties of life can not be commenced too soon. If delayed, the probabilities are that, when you attempt to cultivate the soil in after years, you will find it already choked with weeds, which require more time and trouble to eradicate than would the inculcation of proper principles in early life. A lady remarked upon one occasion, in presence of an eminent preacher, that she thought children should not be trained to any religious exercises until they had arrived at an age when they could fully understand such subjects. The reply of the aged minister is appropriate to the present subject. He said, "Madam, if you do not implant good doctrines in your children's minds before that time, the devil will fill them with mischievous ones."

A somewhat prevalent error in the training of children must not be pa.s.sed unnoticed, namely, excessive rigidity. This practice is common in many well-meaning but unthinking families professing Christianity. Every thing is conducted with as much mathematical precision as if they were demonstrating a problem in Euclid. Such a system is open to very grave objections, from the numerous cases in which it has proved prejudicial to the child's best interests. It acts precisely like the spring of a watch, which you can retain in a fixed position by a mechanical contrivance, but which resumes its elasticity and power the moment the pressure is removed.

Children's minds are elastic also; you can confine them within any circle you please by the exercise of parental authority, but in a large proportion of cases the end sought to be attained is surely defeated. Many justly blame this cause for the mishaps of their future lives. It presents virtue and religion in a repulsive aspect, picturing them only as connected with asceticism, not recognizing the beauty and happiness which are their chief attractions. Thus is engendered in the minds of children an intuitive dislike for what they are taught to consider as a bondage. It is not uncommon to hear men describe the way in which their youthful Sabbaths were spent, and attribute to the irksome monotony of that day's discipline their subsequent distaste for even a few hours' confinement in church. This strictness, like ambition, "overleaps itself," and extinguishes the spirit it is designed to foster. The proper way to educate children for lives of usefulness, honor, and happiness, the most effective plan to reach the desired end, is to cultivate their affections and reason, instead of repressing the one and fettering the other by stringent applications of arbitrary rule.

But no man or woman can educate children properly unless their precepts are confirmed by example. Talk to your son as long as you please upon the advantages of temperance, and then let him see you in a state of intoxication the next day, and all your labor will be fruitless. Enlarge, in the presence of your daughter, upon the value of integrity, and then allow her to hear you utter a falsehood, and she will contrast the theory and practice, and conclude that the former is worthless. Parents must educate themselves before they can hope to instruct their children, and must lead a life in conformity with the principles they teach, if they expect any beneficial results from their endeavors.

Before leaving this part of the subject another matter may be mentioned, namely, the necessity of winning the confidence of children. Their hearts pine for sympathy. If they are in trouble, encourage them to reveal their perplexities to you; sigh with them when they are sad, and rejoice with them when they are happy. A girl who has been in the habit of imparting all her childish sorrows to her mother, and has there found a heart which would beat in unison with her own, will not withhold her confidence as she grows in years. Remember that children, while a blessing to their parents, are also a responsibility. You have the power to train them for good or evil; you can win their trust, or inspire them with distrust; you can make them useful members of society, or render them nuisances to the community; to you their destiny is confided to a great extent, and from you will be required an account of the stewardship.

The length to which these observations have been extended can be justified by the importance of the subject, and the conviction that a more careful fulfillment of parental duties would go very far toward diminishing prost.i.tution. Every man must admit it to be his duty to aid in effecting this desirable consummation; and while it would be Utopian to imagine that the vice can be eradicated by family influences, it is reasonable to conclude that its extent may be materially curtailed.