{"character_count": 3340, "word_count": 611, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9861999750137329], "ccnet_perplexity": [1790.5], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
make himself agreeable to her; after marri- age, it often happens that he thinks more of being agreeable to himself. How often it happens, that married men, after having been away from home the livelong day, during which the wife has toiled at her duties, go at evening again to some place of amusement, and leave her to toll on alone, uncheered and unhappy How often 1t happens that her kindest offices pass unobserved, and unre- warded even by smile, and her best efforts are condemned by the fault-hndlng husband How often 1t happens, even when the even- ing is spent at home, that 1t is employed in silent reading, or some other way that does not recognize the wiie's right to share in the enioyments even of the fireside.

 Look, ye husbands, a moment, and re- member what your wife was when you took her, not from compulsion, but from your own choice; choice based, probably, on what you then considered her superiority to all others. She was young-perhaps the idol of happy home; she was gay and blithe as the lark, and the brothers and sisters at her fathers fireside cherished her as an ob- feet of endeament Yet she left all to join her destiny with yours; to make your home happy; and to do all that woman's love could prompt, and woman's ingenuity devise, to meet your wishes and to tighten the burdens which might press upon you in your pilgrim age She, of course, had her expectations too. She could not entertain feelings which pro missed so much, without forming some idea of reciprocation on your part, and she did expect you would, after marriage, perform those kind offices of which you were so lavish in the days of berothment. She be- came your wife! left her home for yours; burst asunder, as 1t were, the bands of love which had bound her to her fathers freside, and sought no other boon than your anec- tions; left, it may be, the ease and delicacy of home of indulgence; and now, what must be her feelings if she gradually awakes to the consciousness that you love her less than before; that your evenings are spent abroad; that you only come home to satisfy the demands of your hunger, and to find resting place for your head when weary, or nurse for your sick chamber when diseased.

 Why did she leave the bright hearth of h r youthful days2 Why did you ask her to give up her enjoyments of happy home Was 1t simply to darn your stockings, mend your clothes, take care of your children, and watch over your sick bed Was 1t simply to conduce to your own comfort? Or was there some understanding that she was to be made happy in her connexion with the man she dared to love2

 Nor is it sufficient answer, that you re- ply that you give her home; that you feed and clothe her. You do this for your help; you would do 1t for an indifferent house. keeper. She is your wife, and unless you attend to her wants, and in some way answer reasonable expectations you raised by your attentions before marriage, you need not wonder if she be dejected, and her heart sink into insensibility; but if this be SO, think we'll who is the cause of 1t. We re- peat it, very few women make indifferent wives, whose feelings have not met with some outward shock, by the indifference or thoughtlessness of their husbands. Ii is our candid opinion, that ill large majority of the instances of domestic misery, the man IS Inc dggresS0r.