The Marriage Ring, or How to Make Home Happy

“Happy they! the happiest of their kind I Whom gentler stars unite; and in one fate Their hearts, their fortunes, and their being blend.”

IT must be evident to all, that marriage is a step of incalculable importance, and ought never to be taken without the greatest consideration and the utmost caution. If the duties of this state are so numerous and so weighty, and if the right discharge of these obligations, as well as the happiness of our whole life, and even our safety for eternity, depend, as they necessarily must do, in no small measure upon the choice we make of a husband or wife, then let reason determine with what deliberation we should advance to such a connexion. It is obvious, that no

. ‘of* ouy whole e’aithly existence requires more of the exercise of a calm judgment than this; and yet observation proves how rarely the judgment is allowed to give counsel, and how generally the imagination and the passions settle the business.

A very great portion of the misery and of the crime with which society is depraved and afflicted, is the result of ill-formed marriages. To use the beautiful language of another, “those who enter the marriage state cast a die of the greatest contingency, and yet of the greatest interest in the world, next to the last throw for eternity. Life or death, felicity or a lasting sorrow, are in the power of marriage. A woman indeed ventures most, for she hath no sanctuary to retire to, from an evil husband; she must dwell upon her sorrow, which her own folly hath produced; and she is more under it, because her tormentor hath warrant of prerogative, and the woman may complain to God, as subjects do of tyrant princes, but otherwise she hath no appeal in the causes of unkindness. And though THE MAN can run from many hours of sadness, yet he must return to it again; and when he sits among his neighbors, he remembers the objection that lies in his bosom, and he sighs deeply.”

If, however, it were merely the comfort of the married pair themselves that was concerned, it would be a matter of less consequence, a stake of less value; but the well-being of a family, not only for this world, but for the next, and equally so the well-being of their descendants, even to a remote period, depends upon this union. In the ardor of passion, few are disposed to listen to the counsels of prudence; and perhaps there is no advice, generally speaking, more thrown away, than that which is offered on the subject of marriage.

Most persons, especially if they are already attached to a selected object, although they have not committed themselves by a promise or even a declaration, will go on in the pursuit, blinded by love to the indiscretion of their choice; or desperately determined, with the knowledge of that indiscretion, to accomplish, if possible, their purpose. Upon such individual’s, reasoning is wasted, and they must be left to gain wisdom in the only way by which sne will acquire it, — painful experience. To others, who may be yet disengaged, and disposed to hearken to the language of advice, the following remarks are offered. In the affair of marriage, BE GUIDED BY

THE ADVICE OF PARENTS OR GUARDIANS.

Parents have no right to select for you, nor ought you to select for yourself, without consulting with them. How far they are vested with authority to prohibit you from marrying a person whom they disapprove, is a point of casuistry very difficult to determine.

If you are of age, and able to provide for yourselves, or are likely to be well provided for by those to whom you are about to be united, it is a question whether they can do anything more than advise and persuade; but till you are of age, they have positive authority to forbid; and it is an undutiful act in you to form connexions without their knowledge, and to carry them on against their prohibitions.

Their objections ought always, I admit, to be founded on reason, and not on caprice, or pride; for, where this is the case, and children are of full age, and are guided in their choice by prudence, by piety, and by affection, they certainly may, and must be left to decide for themselves. Where, however, parents rest their objections on sufficient grounds, and show plain and palpable reasons for prohibiting a connexion, there it is the manifest duty of sons, and especially of daughters, to give it up. Very seldom does that connexion prove otherwise than a source of wretchedness, on which the frown of an affectionate and wise father and mother fell from the beginning; for God seems to rise up in judgment, and to support the parents’ authority, by confirming their displeasure with his own. Marriage should in every case be formed

UPON THE BASIS OF MUTUAL ATTACHMENT.

If there be no love before marriage, it cannot be expected there should be any after it. Lovers, as all are supposed to be who are looking forward to this union, without love, have no right to expect happiness; the coldness of indifference is soon likely, in their case, to be changed into aversion. There ought to be personal attachment. If there be anything, even in the exterior, that excites disgust, the banns are forbidden by the voice of nature.

I do not say that beauty of countenance or elegance of form is necessary; by no means; a pure and strong attachment has often existed in the absence of these. And I will not take upon me to determine, that it is absolutely impossible to love deformity; but we certainly ought not to unite ourselves with it, unless we can love it, or, at least, are so enamored with the fascination of mental qualities that may be united with it, as to lose sight of the body in the charms of the mind, the heart, and the manners. All I contend for is, that to proceed to marriage against absolute dislike and revulsion, is irrational, base, and sinful.

But love should respect the mind as well as the body; for to be attached to an individual simply on the ground of beauty, is to fall in love with a doll, a statue, or a picture. Such an attachment is lust or fancy, but certainly not a rational affection. If we love the body, but do not love the mind, the heart, and the manners, our regard is placed upon the inferior part of the person, and, therefore, only upon that which, by disease, may be next year a very different thing to what it is now. Nothing fades so soon as beauty; it is but like the delicate bloom of an attractive fruit, and, if there be nothing agreeable underneath, will be thrown away in disgust when that is brushed off; and thrown away, too, by the very hand of him that plucks it. It is so commonly remarked, as to be proverbial, that the charms of mind increase by acquaintance, while those of the exterior diminish; and that, while the former easily reconcile us to a plain countenance, the latter excite, by the power of contrast, a distaste for the insipidity, ignorance, and heartlessness with which they are united, like gaudy, scentless flowers, growing in a desert. In stead of determining to stake our happiness upon the act of gathering these blooming weeds, to place them in our bosom, let us ask, how they will look a few years hence, or how they will adorn and bless our habitation? Let us ask, will the understanding, united with that countenance, render its subject fit to be my companion, and the instructor of my children? Will that temper patiently bear with my weaknesses, kindly consult my tastes, affectionately study my comfort? Will those manners please me in solitude, as well as in society? Will those habits render my dwelling pleasant to myself and to my friends? We must try these matters, and hold our passions back, that we may take counsel with our judgment, and suffer reason to come down and talk with us in the cool of the evening.

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