# Advice to Young Ladies/Chapter 2

Chapter II.
Right Views of Life.
A religious view of life ought to he taken, in the beginning, by every woman. What is meant here by a religious view, is simply the forming of a correct idea of the true relation of man to man, and of man to his Creator. Such a relation does exist, and it is essential to the well-being of every one to understand it. Blindly to shut all this out, and to press forward in thoughtless uncertainty, is surely not the course which a wise man or a wise woman would take. As we are created beings, there must be an orderly relation in which we stand to God and to each other, and any violation of this order by us, either through ignorance or design, must produce unhappiness. In fact, all the unhappiness that exists in the world is produced from this cause. How essential, then, is it for every one, in starting out in life, to have right views on so important a subject!
​The first thing to be considered, in the effort to arrive at correct ideas here, is man’s origin, and the fact of his having fallen from his original state. Man, in the order of his creation, did not love himself. His love flowed out and sought objects of affection. Supremely he loved God; and next to this love was the love of his fellow-man. That this was so, is plain from the statement made in the Bible, that man was created in the image and likeness of God. Now, God is love; not self-love, but a love of making others happy out of himself. Such being his nature, the beings created by his hand, in his image and likeness, must have been, in their original state, lovers of others more than themselves, and seekers of the happiness of others. How different is all now! Man not only loves himself supremely, but seeks his own good with an almost total disregard to the good of his neighbor. Nay, his love of self is so strong, that hatred to others too often takes possession of his mind. The fall of man, in which he lost the image and likeness of his Creator, consisted in his ceasing to love God and his neighbor, and becoming a lover of self and the world; and religion is nothing more nor less than the returning of man to this true order, and the restoration of the lost image and likeness of God in his ​mind. Perfect happiness resulted from this true order; and misery has accompanied, and will continue to accompany, its loss. To love self, and to seek for the gratification of selfish ends, never has, and never will, produce happiness; for it is in direct contrariety to the original law of our being. It is opposed to the very nature of things.
How important, then, is it, that every young woman, when she first begins to think, should think correctly on this subject, so vital to her happiness! But it is one thing to think right, and another thing to be able to bring right thoughts down into correct actions in our ordinary life in the world. To do this is a great achievement; it is, in fact, religion.
There is a great deal said about religion; and numerous enough are those who profess to have what they call religion. But, at this day, there is very little of true religion in the world. There are external forms of sanctimoniousness and acts of piety; but these do not make religion, and too often serve only as cloaks for covering up the most direful and soul-destroying selfishness. It is no hard matter, however, to distinguish the true coin from the base counterfeit. There is a test by which the quality of all may be known, and this test must be applied to their ​every-day, not to their Sunday life. Do they love God or self, the neighbor or the world, most? Look at their conduct in all that pertains to their business and social intercourse with the world, not at what they say, and you will soon be able to decide the question. The tree is easily known by its fruits, the quality of the fountain by the water it sends forth.
To be religious is not to be an ascetic, nor is it necessary to give up any of the pleasures or orderly enjoyments of life. The world, not the cloister, is the place where religion can alone find a permanent abiding-place—a real growth. What is called the religion of the cloister is no religion at all, but mere selfishness—a retiring from actual duty in the world, into an imaginary state of sanctimoniousness. It is only in life’s actualities, in the real every-day business and social contact of man with man, that there can be any genuine religious growth; for religion is love to the neighbor; and all love, to be genuine, must have an actual existence in deeds, as well as in words—must come into exercise in the every-day affairs of life. It is an easy matter for any one to sit in his closet and imagine that he feels a love for all mankind; but let him go into the world, and meet his fellow-man as he is, and feel the encroachments and rude contact of ​his selfish spirit, and he will find something rising in his bosom that he would not like to call love.
The true spirit of religion is a love of being useful to others; and a religious life is the seeking, in all we do, the good of others, at the same time that we fully acknowledge that the ability to do so is not our own, but comes from God, who is the source and giver of all good. Every one, to be happy, must lead such a life; and this is the reason why we urge the considerations now presented, upon the attention of those for whose particular benefit we write.
A just regard for the good of others will not require a woman to neglect any home duty, but will prompt to its more perfect and faithful discharge. Her charity will consist in doing all that her hands find to do, with cheerfulness and alacrity, for the sake of others. The comfort and happiness of others are always in her hands, and every act of her life either adds to or diminishes the comfort and happiness of one or many.
In the beginning, let a young woman remember, that, as she cannot live for herself alone, it will be true wisdom for her to seek to live for others. Every day of her life she will find herself placed in circumstances that, if improved, will enable her to give pleasure to, or perform some useful thing for, another; and her reward ​for so doing will be a delight sweeter far than can possibly spring from any selfish gratification.
Two young ladies sat reading, when a child entered the room, in trouble about his playthings. Something had got wrong, which he could not remedy. He came up to one of them with his useless toy, and asked her to fix it right for him; but she gently pushed him away with her hand, saying, “Go away, now; I cannot attend to you.” He then went to the other, who laid aside her book with a smile, and repaired the toy. It was the work of only a minute, but it was a great matter for the child. His thanks were expressed in his brightening face. The musical ringing of his happy voice, as he bounded from the room, echoed back from the heart of the maiden. In blessing, she was herself blessed.
“Let me wait upon the table, mother,” said a daughter, as the family were assembling for tea. “Your head has ached all day, and you are not well this evening.” The mother gave up her place at the head of the table, with a feeling of pleasure, at the affectionate consideration of her daughter, that sensibly diminished the pain of her aching head. It was a little matter, seemingly, this act of the daughter’s, but much was involved in it. The mother was happier, and the daughter felt a glow of internal satisfaction ​warming through her bosom. While the former was made happier for the moment, the latter was made better permanently.
“Don’t go away, sister,” said a poor little invalid, lifting his large blue eyes to the face of his sister, a young girl in her sixteenth year, who had just come into his room with her bonnet and shawl on. “I want you to stay with me.” “Sister must go, dear,” spoke up the mother. “She has been invited out, and has promised herself much pleasure in going. I will stay with you.” “I want sister to stay too,” replied the child. “I don’t want her to go away.” The sister stood thoughtful for a few moments, and then, whispering something in her mother’s ear, laid off her bonnet and shawl, and sat down by the bedside of her sick brother, whose eyes brightened up, and almost sparkled with pleasure. First she told him a story, and then, holding one of his hands in hers, she sang to him a little song. “Sing another, dear sister,” said the child. The sister sang another and another song, her voice falling into a lower and more soothing tone. Presently she ceased, and looked up into the face of her mother with a smile. The dear little sufferer was asleep. The maiden bent down over the bed, and tenderly kissed the slumberer’s cheek; then rising up quickly, she ​replaced her bonnet and shawl, and glided lightly from the room. Never in her life had she enjoyed herself so well among her young companions, as she did during that evening. Need we tell our readers the cause?
We might go on and instance a hundred different ways in which a young girl may be called on to practise self-denial for the good of others. If she have younger brothers and sisters, these calls will be made daily, and almost hourly. But, in obeying them, she will always find a higher and purer pleasure than in disregarding them.
The true spirit of religion, we have said, is the love of being useful to others. This love no one has naturally. We are all lovers of ourselves more than lovers of God, and lovers of the world more than lovers of our neighbor; and it is hard for us to conceive how there is any real pleasure to be found in denying our own selfish desires in order to seek the good of another. A very little experience, however, will make us plainly see that the inward delight arising from the consciousness of having done good to another is the sweetest of all delights we have ever known. But this love of being useful to others does not easily take the place of our natural selfishness. And it never does, ​unless we oppose, vigorously, and from a religious ground, our natural propensity to regard only our own selves. What is here meant by a religious ground, is, a regard to God and an obedience to his laws, as the duty of a creature made by his hands and sustained by him every moment. These laws teach us to regard the good of others; and when we seek the good of others, because to do so is to live in obedience to the laws of God, we act from a religious principle. Every effort made in this spirit is an efficient one, and actually produces a change in the inward mind, causing a love of others to take the place of a love of self. To sin, is to act in opposition to these laws of God. In every instance, therefore, in which we neglect the good of another, in seeking some selfish gratification, we commit sin; for the law of God, in common society, is, for each to regard the good of the whole.
A right view of life, then, which all should take at the outset, is the one we have presented. Let every young lady seriously reflect upon this subject. Let her remember that she is not designed by her Creator to live for herself alone, but has a higher and nobler destiny—that of doing good to others—of making others happy. ​The little world of self is not the limit that is to confine all her actions. Her love was not destined to waste its fires in the narrow chamber of a single human heart; no, a broader sphere of action is hers—a more expansive benevolence. The light and heat of her love are to be seen and felt far and wide. Who would not rather thus live a true life, than sit shivering over the smouldering embers of self-love? Happy is that maiden who seeks to live this true life! As time passes on, her own character will be elevated and purified. Gradually will she return towards that order of her being, which was lost in the declension of mankind from that original state of excellence in which they were created. She will become, more and more, a true woman; will grow wiser, and better, and happier. Her path through the world will be as a shining light, and all who know her will call her blessed. Who would not wish to lead such a life? Who does not desire to return from disorder and misery, to order and happiness?