aps, my brother, my sister, perhaps you may
appreciate each other better in heaven than you have appreciated each
other on earth.

In the "Farm Ballads" our American poet puts into the lips of a
repentant husband after a life of married perturbation these
suggestive words:

"And when she dies I wish that she would be laid by me,
And lying together in silence, perhaps we will agree.
And if ever we meet in heaven, I would not think it queer
If we love each other better because we quarrelled here."

And let me say to those of you who are in happy married union,

AVOID FIRST QUARRELS;

have no unexplained correspondence with former admirers; cultivate no
suspicions; in a moment of bad temper do not rush out and tell the
neighbors; do not let any of those gad-abouts of society unload in
your house their baggage of gab and tittle-tattle; do not stand on
your rights; learn how to apologize; do not be so proud, or so
stubborn, or so devilish that you will not make up. Remember that the
worst domestic misfortunes and most scandalous divorce cases started
from little infelicities. The whole piled-up train of ten rail cars
telescoped and smashed at the foot of an embankment one hundred feet
down came to that catastrophe by getting two or three inches off the
track. Some of the greatest domestic misfortunes and the widest
resounding divorce cases have started from little misunderstandings
that were allowed to go on and go on until home, and respectability,
and religion, and immortal soul went down in the crash, crash!

And, fellow-citizens as well as fellow-Christians, let us have a
divine rage against anything that wars on the marriage state. Blessed
institution! Instead of two arms to fight the battle of life, four.
Instead of two eyes to scrutinize the path of life, four. Instead of
two shoulders to lift the burden of life, four. Twice the energy,
twice the courage, twice the holy ambition, twice the probability of
worldly success, twice the prospects of heaven. Into that matrimonial
bower God fetches two souls. Outside the bower room for all
contentions, and all bickerings, and all controversies, but inside
that bower there is room for only one guest--the angel of love. Let
that angel stand at the floral doorway of this Edenic bower with drawn
sword to hew down the worst foe of that bower--easy divorce. And for
every Paradise lost may there be a Paradise regained. And after we
quit our home here may we