For want of a little
occasional command over one's temper, an amount of misery is occasioned
in society which is positively frightful. Thus is enjoyment turned into
bitterness, and life becomes like a journey barefooted, amongst
prickles, and thorns, and briars.
In the instance we have cited, the pretty face soon became forgotten.
But as the young man had merely bargained for the "face"--as it was that
to which he had paid his attentions--that which he had vowed to love,
honour, and protect.--when it ceased to be pretty, he began to find out
that he had made a mistake. And if the home be not made attractive,--if
the newly married man finds that it is only an indifferent
boarding-house,--he will gradually absent himself from it. He will stay
out in the evenings, and console himself with cigars, cards, politics,
the theatre, the drinking club; and the poor pretty face will then
become more and more disconsolate, hopeless, and miserable.
Perhaps children grow up; but neither husband nor wife know much about
training them, or keeping them healthy. They are regarded as toys when
babies, dolls when boys and girls, drudges when young men and women.
There is scarcely a quiet, happy, hearty hour spent during the life of
such a luckless couple. Where there is no comfort at home, there is only
a succession of petty miseries to endure.
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