Contentment, in this age of the world, either means death, or dekay, in the days ov Abraham, contentment was simply ignorance. The world iz now full ov larning, the arts, and sciences, and all the thousand appliances ov reazon, these things make ignorance the exception, and no man haz a right tew cultivate contentment, enny more than he haz tew cut oph hiz thum, and set quietly down, and nuss the stub. Show me a thoroughly contented person, and i will show yu an useless one. What we want iz folks who won’t be kontented, who kant be kontented, who git up in the morning, not simply to hav their bed made, but for the sake ov gitting tired; not for the sake ov nourishing kontentment, but for the sake ov putting turpentine in sum ded place, and stiring up the animals. Contentment was born with Adam, and died when Adam ceased tew be an angel, and bekum a man. I don’t say that a man couldn’t be hatched out, and, like a young owl, set on a dri limb, awl hiz days, with hiz branes az fasst asleep az a mudturkles, and at last sneak into heaven, under the guize of kontentment, but i do say, that 10 generashuns ov sich men would run most of the human race into the ground, and leave the ballance az lifeless, and az base, as a currency made out ov puter ten cent pieces. I would like jist az well az the next man, tew crawl into a hole, that jist fitted me, hed fust, and thus shutting out all the light, be contented, for i know how awfully unsothening the aims, and ambishuns ov life are, but this would only be burying mi few tallents, and sacrificing on the ded alter ov kontentment, what war given me, to make a fire or a smudge with. Thare aint no sich thing as contentment and reazon existing together; thoze who slip out ov the crowd, into sum alley, and pretend they are chawing the cud of sweet kontentment, the verry best specimens ov them, are no better than pin cushions, stuck full. They have jist az menny longings az ennybody, they have jist az menny vices, their virtews are too often simply a mixtur ov jealousy and cowardice. Contentment is not desighned, as a stiddy bizziness, for the sons ov man, while on this arth. A yeller dogg, with a tin kittle tew his tale, climbing a hill, at a three minit gate iz a more reazonable spektacle for me, than a slimy snail, contented and happy. MARRIAGE. Marriage iz a fair transaction on the face ov it. But thare iz quite too often put up jobs in it. It iz an old institushun, older than the pyramids, and az phull ov hyrogliphicks that noboddy kan parse. History holds its tounge who the pair waz who fust put on the silken harness, and promised tew work kind in it, thru thick and thin, up hill and down, and on the level, rain or shine, survive or perish, sink or swim, drown or flote. But whoever they waz they must hav made a good thing out ov it, or so menny ov their posterity would not hav harnessed up since and drov out.