love, I would recommend
only such persons to contract matrimony as entertain a kind of lurking
aversion for each other. Let the parties commence with, say, a tolerably
strong stock of honest hatred on both sides. Very well; they, are
united. At first, there is a great deal of heroic grief, and much
exquisite martyrdom on the part of the lady, whilst the gentleman is at
once, if I may say so, indifferent and indignant. By and by, however,
they become tired of this. The husband, who, as well as the wife,
we shall suppose, has a strong spice of the devil in him, begins to
entertain a kind of diabolical sympathy for the fire and temper she
displays; while she, on the other hand, comes by degrees to admire in
him that which she is conscious of possessing herself, that is to say,
a sharp tongue and an energetic temperament. In this way, Lucy, they
go on, until habit has become a second nature to them. The appetite
for strife has been happily created. At length, they find themselves
so completely captivated by it that it becomes the charm of their
existence. Thenceforth a bewitching and discordant harmony prevails
between them, and they entertain a kind of hostile affection for each
other that is desperately delightful."

"Why, you are quite a painter, papa; your picture is admirable; all it
wants is truth and nature."

"Thank you, Lucy; you are quite complimentary, and have made an artist
of me, as artists now go. But is not this much more agreeable and
animated than the sweet dalliance of a sugar-plum life, or the dull,
monotonous existence resembling a Dutch canal, which we term connubial
happiness?"

"Well, now, papa, suppose you were to hear me through?"

"Very well," he replied; "I will."

"I do not believe, sir, that life can present us with anything more
beautiful and delightful than the union of two hearts, two minds, two
souls, in pure and mutual affection, when that affection is founded upon
something more durable than mere beauty or personal attraction--that is,
when it is based upon esteem, and a thorough knowledge of the object we
love."

"Yes, Lucy; but remember there are such things as deceit, dissimulation,
and hypocrisy in the world."

"Yes, and goodness, and candor, and honor, and truth, and fidelity,
papa; do you remember that? When two beings, conscious, I say, of each
other's virtues--each other's failings, if you will--are united in the
bonds of true and pure affection, how could it happen that