happiness of children. When the justifying pretext for the
infliction of all this misery is the benefit of the children, her
maternal nature will struggle hard to endure it with patience.
But, until the passage of the law of 1863, "regulating descents
and distributions," when there were no children of either parent,
the law did not abate its rigor toward her, in the disposition of
the real estate, which is generally all that is left, after
paying the debts and costs of "settlement," though the whole of
the houses and lands might have been bought with her money,
two-thirds were immediately handed over to the relatives of the
husband, however above need; and though they might have been
strangers, or even enemies, to her. She had but a life estate in
the other third, which, at her death, also went, as the other, to
her husband's heirs. She could not indulge her benevolent
feelings or gratify her friendships, by devising by will, to
approved charities or favorite friends, the means she no longer
needed. With a bitter sense of injustice and despairing sorrow,
she might well adopt the language of the unhappy Jew:

"Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that;
You take my house, when you do take the prop
That doth sustain my house; you take my life,
When you do take the means whereby I live."

Such is the famous right of dower, which has been the subject of
so many stupid eulogies by lawyers and commentators.

Take an example of the effect of these laws upon an overburdened
heart, which occurred just before the passage of the Act of 1853.
A young couple, by their united means and patient industry, had
secured for themselves a small, but comfortable home. It
furnished the means of supplying all their simple wants. It was
their own; doubly endeared by the struggles and sacrifices it had
cost them. They were content. They had no children, but they had
each other, and were happy in their mutual love. Death seemed a
great way off; and life--it was a real joy. They knew little of
the laws of estates. Owing nothing, they feared no intrusion upon
the sanctity of their home. But the husband was killed by the
falling of a tree; and, after some hours, was found dead by the
agonized wife. There was no will. The wrung heart of the
childless widow, in her utter bereavement, still clung to her
home, which, though blighted and desolate, was still dear to her.
There, at least, she would find shelter. But soon the inexor