, is his trying to excite your passions. If he
loves you, he will never appeal to that feeling, because he respects
you too much for that. And the woman who allows a man to take
advantage of her just to compel him to marry her, is lost and
heartless in the last degree, and utterly destitute of moral principle
as well as virtue. A woman's riches is her virtue, that gone she has
lost all.
8. THE BEGINNING OF LICENTIOUSNESS.--Man it seldom drives from
society. Do what he may, woman, aye, virtuous and even pious woman
rarely excludes him from her list of visitors. But where is the point
of propriety?--immoral transgression should exclude either sex from
respectable society. Is it that one false step which now constitutes
the boundary between virtue and vice? Or rather, the discovery of that
false step? Certainly not! but it is all that leads to, and precedes
and induces it. It is this courting without marrying. This is the
beginning of licentiousness, as well as its main, procuring cause, and
therefore infinitely worse than its consummation merely.
9. SEARING THE SOCIAL AFFECTIONS.--He has seared his social affections
so deeply, so thoroughly, so effectually, that when, at last, he
wishes to marry, he is incapable of loving. He marries, but is
necessarily cold-hearted towards his wife, which of course renders her
wretched, if not jealous, and reverses the faculties of both towards
each other; making both most miserable for life. This induces
contention and mutual recrimination, if not unfaithfulness, and
imbitters the marriage relations through life; and well it may.
10. UNHAPPY MARRIAGES.--This very cause, besides inducing most of that
unblushing public and private prostitution already alluded to, renders
a large proportion of the marriages of the present day unhappy. Good
people mourn over the result, but do not once dream of its cause. They
even pray for moral reform, yet do the very things that increase the
evil.
11. WEEPING OVER HER FALLEN SON.--Do you see yonder godly mother,
weeping over her fallen son, and remonstrating with him in tones of a
mother's tenderness and importunity? That very mother prevented that
very son marrying the girl he dearly loved, because she was poor, and
this interruption of his love was the direct and procuring cause of
his ruin; for, if she had allowed him to marry this beloved one, he
never would have thought of giving his "strength unto strange
women." True, the mother ruined he
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