Don’t marry in fun. Be in earnest about a matter of so much moment. It may seem funny to a lot of girls out on a sleigh-ride to call in some one and wind up an escapade by a double wedding; but few of such marriages ever end well.
Sudden and ill-considered matches are mismatches. You may have a mother, a sister, or a family to consult; then the old-fashioned way is the best. It’s a left-handed marriage at best that will not allow the forms used for ages to strengthen its solemnity.
Let the world know by open dealing that you have married above any secrecy, elopement, or underhanded fashion. Be brave enough to follow the form of society in a manner that concerns every neighbor and every relative.
Marry at home or at church, in good form, without display; marry according to the best usage of the best people, and you will reap some benefit from the sensible conclusion.
Don’t marry without an eye to comfort. A man that expects to live thirty years or more with a partner will investigate his likes and dislikes; so should a woman. Are you ready to attend a cattle ranch and brave the frontier? Then look the matter clearly in the face at the first hint of the man’s proposal who expects it.
Do you prefer the city to the country? Look to the earliest opportunity. Can you endure a soldier’s absence, or wait for an explorer? or will you prefer a domestic relation that brings you both under one roof daily? These questions should be answered soon enough to prevent regret, remorse, or separation. The greatest of all dangers in marriage is the color-blindness of lovers: they never use but one color—rose color—till a few weeks after the wedding.
Don’t spurn a man for his poverty. “Prosperity is the parent of friends; misfortune is the fire by which they are tried.” One may be poor by an honest failure, another may be rich on ill-gotten gains. The first the lord of honor, the last a prosperous knave.
“I would give it all willingly and work by the day if we could be placed back where we were, and be free from the worry and dread and anxiety,” said a rich man’s wife to a waiting friend by her sick bedside.
Who does not know of poor, plain boys who endured the poverty of youth, struggled with their studies, carved out a fortune as from flinty marble, and enjoyed it in maturer years, all the more for the effort it cost them, all the more likely to last and continue to bless other generations?
Franklin commenced poor with a penny loaf; Greeley was homely and awkward. Few would have looked for Lincoln’s rise. Giddings and Collier and Garfield all started low on the ladder, and ended high in honor and worthy of any woman’s affection.