There Is Always A But In This

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.

It Is Painful To Doubt The Sincerity Of Those We Love.

To Regret The Exchange Of Earthly Pleasures For The Joys Of Heaven, Is As If The Grovelling Caterpillar Should Lament That It Must One Day Quit The Nibbled Leaf To Soar Aloft And Flutter Through The Air, Roving At Will From Flower To Flower, Sipping Sweet Honey From Their Cups, Or Basking In Their Sunny Petals.

A Girl's Affections Should Never Be Won Unsought.

Keep Guard Over Your Eyes And Ears As The Inlets Of Your Heart, And Over Your Lips As The Outlets, Lest They Betray You In A Moment Of Unwariness.