My Heart Is Too Thoroughly Dried To

If Ever I Am A Mother I Will Zealously Strive Against This Crime Of Over- Indulgence. I Can Hardly Give It A Milder Name When I Think Of The Evils It Brings.

But As The Priceless Treasure Too Frequently Hides At The Bottom Of Well, It Needs Some Courage To Dive For It, Especially As He That Does So Will Be Likely To Incur More Scorn And Obloquy For The Mud And Water Into Which He Has Ventured To Plunge, Than Thanks For The Jewel He Procures; As Like In Manner, She Who Undertakes The Cleansing Of A Careless Bachelor's Apartment Will Be Liable To More Abuse For The Dust She Raises Than Commendation For The Clearance She Effects.

I See That A Man Cannot Give Himself Up To Drinking Without Being Miserable One Half His Days And Mad The Other.

A Man Must Have Something To Grumble About; And If He Cant Complain That His Wife Harries Him To Death With Her Perversity And Ill-humour, He Must Complain That She Wears Him Out With Her Kindness And Gentleness.

To Represent A Bad Thing In Its Least Offensive Light Is, Doubtless, The Most Agreeable Course For A Writer Of Fiction To Pursue; But Is It The Most Honest, Or The Safest? Is It Better To Reveal The Snares And Pitfalls Of Like To The Young And Thoughtless Traveller, Or To Cover Them With Branches And Flowers? Oh, Reader! If There Were Less Of This Delicate Concealment Of Facts--this Whispering "peace, Peace," When There Is No Peace, There Would Be Less Of Sin And Misery To The Young Of Both Sexes Who Are Left To Wring Their Bitter Knowledge From Experience.