<h5 id="id00635">VISITING.</h5>
<p id="id00636" style="margin-top: 2em">Is there no time for relaxation? May there not be passive enjoyments?
Passive enjoyments sometimes wrong. How Christian visits should be
conducted. Duty and pleasure compatible. Passive visits useful to
childhood. Folly of morning calls and evening parties. Bible doctrine
of visiting Abuse of visiting.</p>
<p id="id00637" style="margin-top: 2em">But is a young woman to be always actively employed? Is not time to be
allotted her for mere passive enjoyments? May she never unbend her mind
from what is called duty? May she never lay herself, as it were, on the
bosom of her family and friends? May she never seat herself on the
living green, amid roses and violets, or on the mossy bank studded with
cresses or cowslips, and laved by the crystal stream? May she never
view the silver fish as he leaps up, and "dumbly speaks the praise of
God?" May she never wander abroad for the sake of wandering, or ride
for the sake of riding; or gaze on the blue ethereal by day, or the
star-spangled canopy by night?</p>
<p id="id00638">Far be it from me to say any such thing; for I know not to whom such
exercises, <i>as such exercises merely</i>, may or may not be necessary.
That they may be useful to many, cannot be doubted; but that they are
far from being useful, or even innocent, to <i>all</i>, is quite as certain.</p>
<p id="id00639">It is certain, I say, that mere passive exercises are not only
unnecessary with many, but sometimes wrong. The young woman who is
trained, or who has commenced training herself, on truly Christian
principles, and who enjoys a tolerable measure of health, will hardly
find special seasons of this sort necessary or desirable. She will find
sufficient relaxation amid the routine of active life and her daily
occupations, and in her labors of love and charity.</p>
<p id="id00640">The society, of sisters, brothers, parents, grand-parents—of
companions, indeed, of every sort with whom she mingles, at home or at
school—will afford her, at times, every enjoyment, even of the passive
sort, which she really needs; or which, if she has the true spirit of
Christ, she will heartily desire. In her duties to these—nay, even in
her very duties to herself—in the kitchen, the garden or the field,
she will have ample opportunity of descanting on the beauties and
glories of the animal and vegetable world, and on the wonders of the
starry heavens. In pruning, and watering, and weeding the vines and
plants, she may drink in as much as she pleases of the living green, as
well as feast her eyes, anon, on the blue expanse; and in her walks of
charity and mercy, whether alone or in company with others, she may
also receive the nectar of heaven, as it glistens and invites from
Nature's own cup, in as rich draughts as if she were merely lounging,
and seeking for pleasure—nay, even in richer ones, by as much as
active exercise of body and mind, gives her the better mental and
physical appetite.</p>
<p id="id00641">It is one of the strongest proofs that we have a benevolent Creator at
the head of the world in which we live, that he has made duty and
enjoyment perfectly compatible, so that in pursuing the pathway of the
former, we almost inevitably make sure of the latter; and it is also
equally remarkable, if not an equally strong proof of benevolence, that
in seeking enjoyment, as such, without seeking it in the path of duty,
we seldom find it—or if found, it is but half enjoyed.</p>
<p id="id00642">There is nothing in this world—or hardly any thing, to say the
least—which should be done for the mere sake of doing it. We labor not
for the sake of laboring, alone; we eat not, and we drink not, for the
sake, merely, of eating and drinking—at least we should not, would we
obtain the whole benefit of eating and drinking; nor should we even
amuse ourselves for the sake alone of the amusement. Double ends are
often secured by single means; nay, almost always so. I speak now of
the woman, and not of the infant or the child.</p>
<p id="id00643">Social visits among friends and neighbors, for the mere sake of the
passive enjoyment they afford in the earliest years of infancy, may do
exceedingly well as a preparation for the more active and more truly
Christian visits of maturer years and later life. They are useful in
elevating ourselves and others to a state where such visiting is not so
needful to our happiness.</p>
<p id="id00644">As to many forms of visiting current among us—such as morning calls,
evening parties, and calls of any sort which answer none of the real
purposes of visiting—tending neither to make ourselves or any body
else wiser or better, but, on the contrary, to make society worse,
indirectly—I have never found any apology for them which seemed to me
sufficient to satisfy a rational, intelligent, immortal spirit. To come
together late in the evening, just to eat and drink together that which
ought not to be eaten and drunk at all—or if at all, certainly not at
such an hour; to hold conversation an hour or two under the influence
of some sort of excitement, physical or moral, got up for the occasion,
on topics which are of little comparative importance—of which the most
valuable part often is, the inquiry, How do you do? and the consequent
replies to it; to trifle the time away till ten, eleven or twelve
o'clock, and then go home through the cold, damp atmosphere, perhaps
thinly clad, to suffer that night for want of proper and sufficient
sleep, and the next day from indigestion, and a thousand other evils;
what can be more truly pitiable, not to say ridiculous! Nor is the
practice of putting on a new dress—or one which, if not new, we are
quite willing to exhibit—and of going to see our neighbors, and
staying just long enough to ask how they do, say a few stale or silly
things, and prove an interruption and a nuisance, and then going
elsewhere—a whit more justifiable, in beings made in the image of God,
and who are to be accountable at his eternal bar.</p>
<p id="id00645">Let it not be said that I disapprove of visiting, entirely. One of the
grounds of condemnation at the final day, is represented in the
twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew, as being—"Ye visited me not;" that
is, did not visit in the name and for the sake of the Judge, those whom
God has made it a duty no less than a privilege to visit. And can I set
myself, with impunity, against that which my Saviour has encouraged,
and yet pretend to be one of his followers? What would be more
presumptuous? I am not an enemy to visiting, if done with a view to
glorify God in the benefit of mankind. Let young women visit, indeed,
but lot it be done in a way which will be approved by the Saviour and
Judge. But there may be dissipation in the garb of visiting; and it is
still oftener nothing more than the garb of indolence.</p>
<p id="id00646">It is not visiting, but visiting without a definite or important
purpose, to which I object. It is not visiting itself, but the abuse of
visiting. Celestial spirits, for aught we know, are much employed in
visiting—and shall not man be so? Are we to belong to their society
hereafter, and yet not be their <i>associates?</i> Are we to associate with
them, and yet remain solitaries? Could such a thing be? Is not man,
here and hereafter—as I have already insisted—a social being? And if
so, shall not his social nature and social powers be early and
successfully developed and cultivated? Let our visits but promote the
purposes of benevolence, and nothing can, with propriety, be said
against them. I would wage no war on this point, except with
selfishness.</p>
<h2 id="id00647" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XXIV.</h2>
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