CONFIDE IN PARENTS.

If you have sensible parents take them into your confidence in all the

affairs of the heart. They will give you more good advice in one hour

than you can get from all the world beside in five years. They have

toiled for you so long, and prayed for you so much, they have your

best interests at heart. At the same time let parents review their

opposition to a proposed marital alliance, and see if their opposition

is founded on a genuine wish for the child's welfare, or on some whim,

or notion, or prejudice, or selfishness, fighting a natural law and

trying to make Niagara run up stream. William Pitt, the Prime Minister

of England in the reign of George III., was always saying wise things.

One day Sir Walter Farquhar called on him in great perturbation. Mr.

Pitt inquired what was the matter, and Sir Walter told him that his

daughter was about to be married to one not worthy of her rank. Mr.

Pitt said: "Is the young man of respectable family?" "Yes." "Is he

respectable in himself?" "Yes." "Has he an estimable character?"

"Yes." "Why, then, my dear Sir Walter, make no opposition." The advice

was taken, and a happy married life ensued. Let ministers and officers

of the law decline officiating at clandestine marriages. When they are

asked to date a marriage certificate back, as we all are asked, let

them peremptorily decline to say that the ceremony was in November

instead of January, or decline to leave the date blank, lest others

fill out the record erroneously. Let a law be passed in all our

States, as it has already been in some of the States, making a license

from officers of the law necessary before we can unite couples, and

then make it necessary to publish beforehand in the newspapers, as it

used to be published in the New England churches, so that if there be

lawful objection it may be presented, not swinging the buoy on the

rocks after the ship has struck and gone to pieces.

And here it might be well for me to take all the romance out of an

escapade by quoting a dozen lines of Robert Pollock, the great Scotch

poet, where he describes the crazed victim of one of these escapades:

"... Yet had she many days

Of sorrow in the world, but never wept.

She lived on alms, and carried in her hand

Some withered stalks she gathered in the spring.

When any asked the cause she smiled, and said

They were her sisters, and would come and watch

Her grave when she was dead. She never spoke

Of her deceiver, father, mother, home,

Or child, or heaven, or hell, or God; but still

In lonely places walked, and ever gazed

Upon the withered stalks, and talked to them;

Till, wasted to the shadow of her youth,

With woe too wide to see beyond, she died."

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