The treasures of the deep are not so precious
As are the cealed forts of a man
Lockd up in womans love. I st the air
Of blessings, when I came but he house,
What a delicious breath marriage sends forth--
The violet beds no sweeter!
MIDDLETON.
I HAVE often had occasion to remark the fortitude with whien sustain the most overwhelming reverses of fortuhose disasters which break down the spirit of a man, and prostrate him in the dust, seem to call forth all the energies of the softer sex, and give sutrepidity and elevation to their character, that at times it approaches to sublimity. Nothing be more toug, than to behold a soft and tender female, who had been all weakness and dependence, and alive to every trivial roughness, while threading the prosperous paths of life, suddenly rising ial force to be the forter and support of her husband under misfortune, and abiding with unshrinking ?rmhe bitterest blasts of adversity.
As the vine, which has long twis graceful foliage about the oak, and been and been lifted by it into sunshine, will, when the hardy plant is rifted by the thunderbolt, g round it with its caressing tendrils, and bind up its shattered boughs, so is it beautifully ordered by Providehat woman, who is the mere depe and or of man in his happier hours, should be his stay and solace when smitten with sudden calamity; winding herself into the rugged recesses of his nature, tenderly supp the drooping head, and binding up the broke.
I was once gratulating a friend, who had around him a blooming family, knit together iro affe. "I wish you er lot," said he, with enthusiasm, "than to have a wife and children. If you are prosperous, there they are to share your prosperity; if otherwise, there they are to fort you." And, indeed, I have observed that a married man falling into misfortune, is more apt to retrieve his situation in the world than a single one; partly, because he is more stimulated to exertion by the ies of the helpless and beloved beings who depend upon him for subsistence, but chie?y because his spirits are soothed and relieved by domestidearments, and his self-respect kept alive by ?nding, that, though all abroad is darkness and humiliatiohere is still a little world of love at home, of which he is the monarch. Whereas, a single man is apt to run to waste and self-; to fancy himself lonely and abandoned, and his heart to fall to ruin, like some deserted mansion, for want of an inhabitant.
These observations call to mind a little domestic story, of which I was once a witness. My intimate friend, Leslie, had married a beautiful and aplished girl, who had been brought up in the midst of fashionable life. She had, it is true, no fortune, but that of my friend le; and he delighted iicipation of indulging her in every elegant pursuit, and administering to those delicate tastes and fahat spread a kind of witchery about the sex.--"Her life," said he, "shall be like a fairy tale."
The very differen their characters produced a harmonious bination; he was of a romantid somewhat serious cast; she was all life and gladness. I have often noticed the mute rapture with which he would gaze upon her in pany, of which her sprightly powers made her the delight: and how, in the midst of applause, her eye would still turn to him, as if there alone she sought favor and acceptance. When leaning on his arm, her slender form trasted ?nely with his tall, manly person. The fond