p. 156 | A Talk on the Responsibilities of Women

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Mar 5, 1885

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 11, No. 10.

A Talk on the Responsibilities of Women.

By Mrs. Margaret E. Bottome

I took up a paper a few days ago, and this first caught my eye:—

WANTED—MEN.

We do not mean in point of number, but of character. The great want of our times is men. When the old Greeks spoke of a man, they meant a hero, one endowed with courage and strength, one who would return from the battle-field only “with his shield or on it.” We need in these days men who are heroes; not with sword and spear and shield, but with moral virtues. We have battles to wage that tell more on the good of humanity than those the Greek heroes fought. So we say that the great need of the times is men, manly men, moral heroes.

The only clew which the writer gave as to how we should get such men was that we must make the demand, and we shall get the supply. “We must demand character.” “But,” I reflected, “character is something that is made; and the truth has passed into a proverb that ‘the mother makes the man.’”

You will find the model woman by opening your Bibles, and turning to the last chapter of Proverbs. The inspired writer says, “Strength and honor are her clothing;”—a magnificent dress!—“She openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue is the law of kindness;”—think how many women open their mouth to gossip and slander! The law with many is unkindness instead of kindness. “She looketh well to the ways of her household and eateth not the bread of idleness”—“She looketh.” It does not say that, necessarily, she is to do the work; but she is “to look” to see that it is done. And no woman, no matter though she has her millions, can afford to eat the bread of idleness. The more money she has, if she is true, the more work she will have to do. “The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.” “Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. . . . Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain; but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her own works praise her in the gates.”

Do you mark that in these last three verses the word praise occurs three times? The deep need of a woman’s nature is expressed in that word praise. I am glad that God says, “She shall be praised,” for she needs it. Her husband, if he is the husband he ought to be, praises her if she is the woman here described. I think there is a “withholding” of praise, “more than is meet, and it tendeth to poverty.” Wives are not praised; children are not praised as they should be. Every fault is carefully marked, and reproofs are not withheld; but when our children do well, or try to improve, are we generous with our praise? We seem to think praise is hurtful. Flattery is, but praise never. God loves to be praised. And we praise him; and we ought to praise each other when it is deserved. I am glad God promises a supply though the human supply ceases. When God says shall, it will be done. I want you to mark this particularly: “A woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised; and her works praise her.” How many works of Christian charity are monuments of praise to the noble women in our great city to-day! We greatly need more such women, and never more than now.

Now, let us go back to the nursery. To every little child this world is without form and void; and the first light that God brings out of the darkness is the face of the mother. And the first sound that enters the silent sea of an infant soul is the voice of its mother, as she bends over it trying to catch some look or call of recognition. A mother’s influence, who can estimate it? The child will be very much what the mother is, and what the force of her own character and example makes it.

I heard a story some time ago, of a little child whose mother asked her brother to step into the nursery and hear his little niece say her prayers, as the mother was prevented from doing so by company. After repeating the “Now I lay me,” etc., she added, most earnestly, “And, Lord, make us all very stylish.” That child had been impressed that the one thing needful was to be stylish. Thus the child, even before it leaves the nursery, and notwithstanding all the good lessons it has learned there, is prepared, by the unconscious influence of the mother, for the worldly aims that are opening for her full soon.

Now do not misunderstand me. I do not mean that class of mothers—so called, but who are unworthy of the name—who are training their children in the children’s carnivals, where they are made to dance dressed like so many wax dolls, while their mothers like big wax dolls are admiringly looking on. Poor little children, every one of whom should be in bed instead. Do you think such children will be likely to have “strength and honor for their clothing”? The foolish women they call mothers are not even giving their children physical education, to say nothing of a moral outfit for this and the next world. It is sickening to see these children trained in the art of flirtation, long before they should have left the nursery. I hope I have no such mothers before me, or I should feel called upon to address them specially.

But let me ask you, mothers, if you bestow half the thought of the clothing which the inspired writer calls “strength and honor”—principles of unselfishness, of honesty and real truthfulness—that you give to dressing the bodies of your children? I have not one word to say against beautiful adornings for childhood; but let me ask, do you lead them from the beautiful to the more beautiful? I remember a picture of my childhood. I was visiting a young friend, who had just received her summer hat. I well remember the wreath of bright artificial flowers that enlivened it. My little friend bounded into the room where her aged grandma sat, exclaiming: “Grandma, see my new hat!” The dear old lady, dressed in severest Quaker garb, seated in her old arm-chair, smiled at her happy child and said: “Yes, my darling; and it is very pretty.” And laying her hand on the head of her little granddaughter, she said: “And if thee is good, my dear child, some day the angels will put a wreath of more beautiful flowers than these are, and that will never fade away, on thy fair head.” I think if the dear old lady had said a crown, I might have forgotten it, but the wreath of imperishable flowers I have never forgotten. Do we, as mothers, suggest to our children, as we put them in their fairy-like white garments, thoughts of the spotless robes, the white garments, in which we and our children are to be clothed for eternity?—Mrs. Margaret E. Bottome.