butes, that marriages are interdicted betwixt
different trades; the daughter of one of the cordwainers' gild is not
permitted to marry a carpenter; and parents are obliged to train up their
children precisely in their own callings, and not put them to any other
trade; by which means the distinction and continuance of their fortunes
are maintained.

A good marriage, if there be any such, rejects the company and conditions
of love, and tries to represent those of friendship. 'Tis a sweet
society of life, full of constancy, trust, and an infinite number of
useful and solid services and mutual obligations; which any woman who has
a right taste:

"Optato quam junxit lumine taeda"--

["Whom the marriage torch has joined with the desired light."
--Catullus, lxiv. 79.]

would be loth to serve her husband in quality of a mistress. If she be
lodged in his affection as a wife, she is more honourably and securely
placed. When he purports to be in love with another, and works all he
can to obtain his desire, let any one but ask him, on which he had rather
a disgrace should fall, his wife or his mistress, which of their
misfortunes would most afflict him, and to which of them he wishes the
most grandeur, the answer to these questions is out of dispute in a sound
marriage.

And that so few are observed to be happy, is a token of its price and
value. If well formed and rightly taken, 'tis the best of all human
societies; we cannot live without it, and yet we do nothing but decry it.
It happens, as with cages, the birds without despair to get in, and those
within despair of getting out. Socrates being asked, whether it was more
commodious to take a wife or not, "Let a man take which course he will,"
said he; "he will repent." 'Tis a contract to which the common
saying:

"Homo homini aut deus aut lupus,"

["Man to man is either a god or a wolf."--Erasmus, Adag.]

may very fitly be applied; there must be a concurrence of many qualities
in the construction. It is found nowadays more convenient for simple and
plebeian souls, where delights, curiosity, and idleness do not so much
disturb it; but extravagant humours, such as mine, that hate all sorts of
obligation and restraint, are not so proper for it:

"Et mihi dulce magis resoluto vivere collo."

["And it is sweet to me to live with a loosened neck."
--Pseudo Gallus, i. 61.]