Conjoined with self-control, it gives patience--the
patience to bear and forbear, to listen without retort, to refrain until
the angry flash has passed. How true it is in marriage, that "the soft
answer turneth away wrath!"

Burns the poet, in speaking of the qualities of a good wife, divided
them into ten parts. Four of these he gave to good temper, two to good
sense, one to wit, one to beauty--such as a sweet face, eloquent eyes,
a fine person, a graceful carriage; and the other two parts he divided
amongst the other qualities belonging to or attending on a wife--such
as fortune, connections, education [20that is, of a higher standard than
ordinary], family blood, &c.; but he said: "Divide those two degrees
as you please, only remember that all these minor proportions must
be expressed by fractions, for there is not any one of them that is
entitled to the dignity of an integer."

It has been said that girls are very good at making nets, but that it
would be better still if they would learn to make cages. Men are often
as easily caught as birds, but as difficult to keep. If the wife cannot
make her home bright and happy, so that it shall be the cleanest,
sweetest, cheerfulest place that her husband can find refuge in--a
retreat from the toils and troubles of the outer world--then God help
the poor man, for he is virtually homeless!

No wise person will marry for beauty mainly. It may exercise a powerful
attraction in the first place, but it is found to be of comparatively
little consequence afterwards. Not that beauty of person is to be
underestimated, for, other things being equal, handsomeness of form
and beauty of features are the outward manifestations of health. But to
marry a handsome figure without character, fine features unbeautified
by sentiment or good-nature, is the most deplorable of mistakes. As even
the finest landscape, seen daily, becomes monotonous, so does the most
beautiful face, unless a beautiful nature shines through it. The beauty
of to-day becomes commonplace to-morrow; whereas goodness, displayed
through the most ordinary features, is perennially lovely. Moreover,
this kind of beauty improves with age, and time ripens rather than
destroys it. After the first year, married people rarely think of
each other's features, and whether they be classically beautiful or
otherwise. But they never fail to be cognisant of each other's temper.
"When I see a man," says Addison, "with a sour rivelled face