Believe me, matrimony is a serious thing.' And she spoke it so seriously, that one might have fancied she had known it to her cost; but I asked no more impertinent questions, and merely answered,--'I know it is; and I know there is truth and sense in what you say; but you need not fear me, for I not only should think it wrong to marry a man that was deficient in sense or in principle, but I should never be tempted to do it; for I could not like him, if he were ever so handsome, and ever so charming, in other respects; I should hate him--despise him--pity him--anything but love him.

My affections not only ought to be founded on approbation, but they will and must be so: for, without approving, I cannot love.

It is needless to say, I ought to be able to respect and honour the man I marry, as well as love him, for I cannot love him without.

So set your mind at rest.' 'I hope it may be so,' answered she.
'I know it is so,' persisted I.
'You have not been tried yet, Helen--we can but hope,' said she in her cold, cautious way.
'I was vexed at her incredulity; but I am not sure her doubts were entirely without sagacity; I fear I have found it much easier to remember her advice than to profit by it;--indeed, I have sometimes been led to question the soundness of her doctrines on those subjects.

Her counsels may be good, as far as they go--in the main points at least;--but there are some things she has overlooked in her calculations.