I have one more word of advice to give to those who would have a happy
home, and that is, let love preside in it. When your behavior in the
domestic circle becomes a mere matter of calculation; when the caress
you give is merely the result of deliberate study of the position you
occupy, happiness lies stark dead on the hearthstone. When the
husband's position as head of the household is maintained by loudness
of voice, by strength of arm, by fire of temper, the republic of
domestic bliss has become a despotism that neither God nor man will
abide. Oh, ye who promised to love each other at the altar, how dare
you commit perjury? Let no shadow of suspicion come on your affection.
It is easier to kill that flower than it is to make it live again. The
blast from hell that puts out that light leaves you in the blackness
of darkness forever.