THE UNHAPPY MARRIAGE.

PART IV.

"Those marriages, generally abound most with love and constancy, that are preceded by a long courtship. The passion should strike root, and gather strength, before Marriage is grafted in it. A long course of hopes aud expectations, fixes the idea in our minds, and habituates us to a fondness of the person beloved.”

ADDISON.

Soon after Lieutenant Orme had sent the preceding letter to Mr. Holmes, he obtained promotion through the influence of Lord P-n, in a regiment, belong. ing to the East India Service; and immediately embarked, without making any communication to his wife, or expressing any wish to see his infant child. She knew not the place of his destination for nearly two years after he had left his native country, when she received a letter from him. On opening the letter she very naturally expected to find some relentings for his past unkindness, and some pledges of future devotion to her happiness; but she was disappointed. The influence of time, which generally softens down the asperities of temper, and brings about a cordial reconciliation between the most hostile parties, had given to his malevolent disposition a keener edge of resentment, and as though he had not inflicted a wound sufficiently deep, he now directed the whole force of his malignant spirit, to lacerate her to the centre of her heart-He accused her of infidelity, reproached her for her attachment to her own family, on whom he poured forth a torrent of low-life abuse; and concluded by saying, that she might now put on her weeds, as it was not his intention of ever returning to claim her as his wife, or even to acknowledge the child she had borne, as his son.

As she still cherished an attachment for him, notwithstanding his cruel treatment, and had indulged the forlorn hope of seeing him reclaimed from the paths of evil, the contents of this letter produced at first a deep depression; but as she had now begun to derive consolation from a source of happiness, which is concealed from eye of the gay and the dissipated, she soon regained

the

her composure; and though she ceased not to pray for him, yet he became as an alien from her affections. For many years she knew not, whether she was a wife or a widow; but at length the report of his death reached her through the medium of a friend. She wept when she heard of his decease, and expressed a strong anxiety to know the cause of it. "If he died in the faith and hope of the gospel," she said to the bearer of the intelligence, "I will sorrow not as one who has no hope, for I will blend with my grief the anticipations of futurity, but if he died as he lived, I fear that I shall go down to the grave mourning, for he was the father of my child, and once, was my husband." Many enquiries were made, but no information could be obtained, till they received a letter from an Officer, who belonged to the same company. This gentleman spoke in high terms of his courage, and of the important services which he had rendered to the government of India, and also of the esteem in which he was held by all who knew him; expressing at the same time his regret, that he fell a victim not to the sword, but to his habits of intemperance, which became so inveterate, that neither reason, nor authority could subdue them. Thus terminated a union, which treachery planned, and which indiscretion consummated; which was hailed by the lovely Emma with delight, but which embittered the whole of her subsequent life, and brought her to a premature grave.

His cruelty, in first abandoning his wife and child. without bidding them adieu, and then insulting her by his bitter accusations, was not more flagrant and unjust, than his perfidy in beguiling her to her ruin; and though the breast of pity could not withhold the sympathy which her sufferings excited, yet every impartial spectator was compelled to acknowledge, that she had brought them on herself by her own imprudence. And though such instances of cruelty and treachery, are incessantly occurring in the history of human life, and though they are held up by the moralist, as beacons to warn the enterprizing female of the danger to which she is exposed, yet how often do we see them pass on regardless of the fate of others, and insensible to their own, more disposed to censure the light, which makes their ruin visible, than to dread the darkness of concealment

which makes it certain. They are too often smitten by external appearances, and too easily imposed upon by the fictitious tales of the perfidious, and the crafty; and either from the impulse of nature, or the rage of fashion, surrender themselves to the dominion of their passions, and rejecting with contempt the advice of their best friends, and braving the opposition of their parents, they often plunge themselves into a state of misery, without having, as a melancholy alleviation to their anguish, the solitary consolation, that they were not apprized of their danger. As I have seen in my passage through life, so many fine characters wrecked on this fatal rock, I wish to guard the thoughtless and inexperienced from a similar catastrophe; and though I cannot suppose, that I shall be able to change the purpose, when it is once formed, yet I do not despair of exciting some degree of precaution in the unconquered mind.

As that union, which is ordained to be the source of the purest felicity, or of the bitterest anguish, and which nothing can dissolve, but the sacrifice of our personal honour, or the loss of life, is the most important that can be formed, no one ought to propose it, or consent to it, till after the most mature deliberation. In some instances it has been known that short courtships have led to happy marriages; but the instances are comparatively few. Two persons accidentally meet-strangers to each other-an offer: of marriage is made by the gentleman, and immediately accepted by the lady; a few weeks of intercourse, or of correspondence elapse, and they are united for life. Can such a hasty union, which has taken place while the parties have been almost entirely ignorant of each other, be expected to yield much domestic happiness? It may, but the chances are against it; as the history of social life demonstrates this fact, that domestic felicity is less dependant on the agreeableness of each others persons, than the harmony of each others disposition; and though a magic charm is often associated with the nuptial vow, before that vow is legally pledged, yet afterwards, the fiction is discovered, and the wedded pair have to seek their relative bliss in the amiability of each others tempers -in the sweetness of each others disposition-in the

conformity of each others habits-in the goodness of each others principles, and in the purity and ardour of each others affection. And considering the immense importance of this accordance as a permanent source of domestic happiness, and the amazing diversity of tempers and dispositions which is known to prevail in society, will a wise man, or will a prudent female, venture to risk their felicity for life by a sudden, and precipitate union? What! shall we deem it necessary to institute a severe inquiry respecting the temper and disposition and principles of the servants we take into our dwellings, and whom we may dismiss at our pleasure! and think that no such inquiry is necessary in relation to the person to whom we are to be united for life? who is to be our diadem of beauty or our badge of disgrace? our comforter or our tormentor? the means of elevating us to honour, or sinking us into contempt? Would this be an act of wisdom or of discretion?

And is it not to be regretted that the period of courtship, which is intended to give to the parties an opportunity of judging of their fitness for each other, is usually the period in which the greatest degree of duplicity prevails. It may be justly denominated the intermediate state between the two conditions in human life, over which the evil spirit of deception presides investing the character with imaginary charms-transforming the ferocity of the tyger into the gentleness of the dove-softening down rugged and uncouth tempers into the smoothness of the most subduing tenderness-curbing restless, and ungovernable passions, with the restraints of a crafty policy-inspiring the love of honour and of religion in the breast of impurity, and giving such a fascination to the exterior graces of manners and address, that they surpass in estimated value, the most solid and substantial virtues. This is the fatal period, when suspicion is usually asleep; when a slowness of heart to believe the ru mours of report, becomes proverbial, and when the efforts of disinterested friendship to dissolve the charm of deception meet with insult and reproach; and it is not till they rise out of this state into the newness of married life, and resume their real character, that

they discover the fraud they have been practising on each other; and then the work of mutual recrimination and reproach commences. Then it is their

eyes are opened to see their folly and their danger, but their repentance, like that of Esau's, comes too late to repair the evil which they have brought upon

themselves.

As the period of courtship is the most dangerous in the history of life, because the most deceptive, they who wish to enjoy a state of permanent domestic happiness, cannot be too observant of each others tempers, of each others dispositions, of each others principles, of each others habits-cannot be too inquisitive respecting each others connections and manners; and if they discover an uncongeniality in any of these particulars, they would act a wiser part to separate by mutual consent, than to consummate a union which will inevitably become a fruitful source of misery, if not of crime, and may terminate in disgrace, if not in ruin. Some severe moralists contend, that when an offer of marriage has been given and accepted, no circumstances will justify either party withdrawing from their pledge, but that it ought to be held as sacred and as obligatory as the marriage vow; and though the writer would not hazard an opinion which would tend to sanction a wanton inconstancy, yet he claims the privilege of differing from them. For what purpose has the unanimous consent of mankind required some period of time to elapse, after the offer has been made, before it is formally, and for life decided? Is it not, that the contracting parties may have an opportunity of judging of their relative fitness for each other? If not, they may pass at once, from the first yielding consent, to the nuptial altar; but if it be, they are invested with a moral right to revise their decision, when fresh discoveries of character are made, which change their opinions and alienate their affections. Suppose a gentleman makes a lady an offer, and she accepts it, under a firm conviction that he is a man of honour, of integrity, of virtue, and of prudence, whose temper is mild, whose disposition is amiable, whose circumstances are respectable, and who is