opposite appetites, of desires opposed to one another, of differing
moods and fancies; two creatures not yet taught the lesson of self-
control, of self-renunciation, and bind them together for life in an
union so close that one cannot snore o'nights without disturbing the
other's rest; that one cannot, without risk to happiness, have a
single taste unshared by the other; that neither, without danger of
upsetting the whole applecart, so to speak, can have an opinion with
which the other does not heartedly agree.

Could two angels exist together on such terms without ever
quarrelling? I doubt it. To make marriage the ideal we love to
picture it in romance, the elimination of human nature is the first
essential. Supreme unselfishness, perfect patience, changeless
amiability, we should have to start with, and continue with, until
the end.

[The real Darby and Joan.]

I do not believe in the "Darby and Joan" of the song. They belong to
song-land. To accept them I need a piano, a sympathetic contralto
voice, a firelight effect, and that sentimental mood in myself, the
foundation of which is a good dinner well digested. But there are
Darbys and Joans of real flesh and blood to be met with--God bless
them, and send more for our example--wholesome living men and women,
brave, struggling, souls with common-sense. Ah, yes! they have
quarrelled; had their dark house of bitterness, of hate, when he
wished to heaven he had never met her, and told her so. How could he
have guessed those sweet lips could utter such cruel words; those
tender eyes, he loved to kiss, flash with scorn and anger?