When woman glides into her natural position,--that of a wife,--it is then only that she occupies her appropriate sphere, and exhibits in its most attractive form the loveliness of her character. Marriage is an institution as essential to the stability and harmony of the social system as gravity is to the order and preservation of the planetary system. In the domestic circle the devoted wife becomes the centre of attraction, the "angel of the household." Her world is her home; her altar, the hearthstone. In her daily ministrations she makes herself angelic by making home a heaven, and every one happy who may come within the "charmed circle" of her kind cares and generous sympathies. In fact, there is no place like home, "sweet home," when on its sacred altar burns the blended incense of harmonious souls,--
"Two souls with but a single thought; Two hearts that beat as one."
It is certain that man and woman were never created to live independent of each other. They are but counterparts, and therefore incomplete until united in wedlock. Hence they who prefer single blessedness are justly chargeable with the "sin of omission," if not the "unpardonable sin." It is difficult to estimate the fearful responsibilities of those fossilized bachelors who persist in sewing on their own buttons and in mending their own stockings. Yet these selfish gentlemen frankly admit that there may have been such a thing as "true love" in the olden times, but now, they say, the idea has become obsolete; and if a bachelor were to ask a young lady to share his lot, she would immediately want to know how large the "lot" is and what is its value. In further justification they quote Socrates, who, being asked whether it were better for a man to marry or live single, replied, "Let him do either and he will repent it." But this is not argument, nor is it always true, even in a sordid marriage, as appears in the following instance: Not long since, in New York, a bachelor of twenty-two married a rich maiden of fifty-five, who died within a month after the nuptials and left him a half-million of dollars. He says he has never "repented" the marriage.
The age in which we live is one of experiment and of novel theories, both in religion and in politics. In modern spiritualism we have entranced women, who give us reports from the dead. In modern crusades we have devout women, who visit tippling-houses and convert them into sanctuaries of prayer. In politics we have mismated and unmated women, who hold conventions, clamor for the ballot, and advocate the doctrine of "natural selection."