For love is brittle. Do not risk even any little jar; it may be
"The little rift within the lute,
That by and by will make the music mute,
And ever widening slowly silence all." [16]
Love is delicate; "Love is hurt with jar and fret," and you might as well expect a violin to remain in tune if roughly used, as Love to survive if chilled or driven into itself. But what a pleasure to keep it alive by
"Little, nameless, unremembered acts
Of kindness and of love." [17]
"She whom you loved and chose," says Bondi,
"Is now your bride,
The gift of heaven, and to your trust consigned;
Honor her still, though not with passion blind;
And in her virtue, though you watch, confide.
Be to her youth a comfort, guardian, guide,
In whose experience she may safety find;
And whether sweet or bitter be assigned,
The joy with her, as well as pain divide.
Yield not too much if reason disapprove;
Nor too much force; the partner of your life
Should neither victim be, nor tyrant prove.
Thus shall that rein, which often mars the bliss
Of wedlock, scarce be felt; and thus your wife
Ne'er in the husband shall the lover miss." [18]
Every one is ennobled by true love—
"Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all." [19]
Perhaps no one ever praised a woman more gracefully in a sentence than Steele when he said of Lady Elizabeth Hastings that "to know her was a liberal education;" but every woman may feel as she improves herself that she is not only laying in a store of happiness for herself, but also raising and blessing him whom she would most wish to see happy and good.
Love, true love, grows and deepens with time. Husband and wife, who are married indeed, live