Divorce of today

Also, that is how I would like to refer to divorce of today.

Divorce, beastly degeneracy, is for worse than death.

The Hypocrite, a poem written by Bingham Thoburn Wilson, protest against the misalliance of Beauty with rich, licentious Age — a stroke against the repulsive money-marriages we see every day.

Wilson talks, and I agree, of two great national diseases in America, striving to annihilate the physical and moral man: Divorce and Consumption. I agree, with addition to consumption. I think consumption falls under Covet.

Think not that the former is to be the more dreaded of the two.

Consumption may lay waste the frail body of the individual, and place its emaciated, hapless victim, with merciless hand, deep in the cold grave. But when the moral obligations of manhood are gone, when the marriage rite has lost the binding sacred-ness of its vow, not only the individual, but the very national life will sink into a state of beastly degeneracy that is far worse than death.

I have always considered marriage as a sacred and holy relation, rather than one of mere legal obligation by civil contract, and the very non-realization of this fact by the law has robbed the Church of much of its power to correct the rapidly increasing evil of divorce.

I firmly contend that the misalliance of rich decrepitude with folly-blindfolded, or designing beauty, is responsible for a percentage of divorce far in excess of its proportion to the number of people married. Such misalliance, on the part of Age, may seem like a travesty upon the virtues of second childhood; but on the part of Youth it amounts to willful and downright prostitution.

Covet or Consumption

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