When Lord
Beaconsfield said, "I observe those of my friends who married for
love--some of them beat their wives, and the remainder are divorced,"
he knew that he was uttering a piece of mockery which would have been
blasphemous had it been set down in all seriousness. He meant to say
that headlong marriages--marriages contracted in purblind
passion--always end in misery. No marriage can bring a spark of
happiness unless cool reason guides the choice of the contracting
parties. A hot-headed stripling marries a handsome termagant--her
brilliant face, her grace, and rude health attract him, and he does
not quietly notice the ebullitions of her temper. She is divine to
him; and, though she snarls at her younger brother, insults her
mother, and to outsiders plainly exhibits all sorts of petty
selfishness, yet the stripling rushes on to his fate; and at the end
of a few miserable years he is either a broken and hen-pecked creature
or a mean and ferocious squabbler.
How different is the case of those who are not precipitate! Take the
case of the splendid cynic whose words we have quoted. With his usual
sagacity, Lord Beaconsfield waited, watched, and finally succeeded in
making an ideally happy marriage in circumstances which would have
affrighted an ordinary person.
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