January
February
March
April
May
June
July
August
September
October
November
December
January
February
March
April
May
June
July
August
September
October
November
December
January
February
March
April
May
June
July
August
September
October
November
December
Last week was married at Snoring church, in this country, Mr. Snow to Miss Frost.
Hail, wedded love!
A Country Newspaper.
I OFFER the following letter without any prefatory remarks to my readers.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
I have somewhere read of a good woman, who, on coming from church after she had been married, exclaimed most emphatically, “Thank heaven! the troublesome business of love is now at an end.” It has also been said, in the same spirit, that lovers are no less altered by marriage than drunken men are by sleep.
I have also frequently seen a pair of prints which represents the latter opinion in a more striking manner than words can possibly describe. They were published at a period when the art of engraving was not brought to its present state of perfection: but though they would not be suffered to appear in the windows of Mr. Ackermann’s shop, where I have so often been, and the passing crowds are so continually arrested to view its attractive display of art, taste, and beauty, these inferior productions, nevertheless, tell their story with considerable effect, though fitted only for the walls of a country alehouse, or the stall of a country fair.
The titles of these two pictures are Before Marriage and After Marriage. The scene is the same in both: it is entirely rural, and consists of a field with a path through it, a thick hedge, a spreading oak, a lofty, awkward stile, and a distant view of the country. The living characters are a young lady and gentleman, who are to be supposed as taking a lover’s walk.
In the first this happy pair are seen passing the stile, and nothing can exceed the tender, assiduous care with which the fond Damon assists his beloved Lucinda in clearing the difficulties of this troublesome barrier, while she appears to display a modest pride from the attentions of her enamoured swain. The companion print exhibits the same persons, the same stile, and the same scenery; but the acting characters, who are supposed to be man and wife, and may have been so for three weeks or a month, are already in a state of separation. She is clambering over the stile, at the risk of breaking her legs, and calling in vain assistance; while he appears to be walking at some distance before her, and whistling for want of thought; or if he has any, the late adorable object of his everlasting tenderness and unchangeable affection, does not seem to occupy an atom of it.
I first saw these pictures in a cake-shop when I was a boy at school, and having made them the subject of an exercise, the master on reading it clapped me on the head, and prognosticated that I should die an old bachelor. I must, however, observe by the way, that the learned doctor himself was so far from being one of those inattentive husbands, that it was evident to all his scholars, as well as to the whole neighbourhood, that he practised the most submissive obedience to a very imperious wife: so that the boys, whenever he thought it proper to scourge them, felt a vindictive satisfaction in the reflection, that in the course of twenty-four hours at least Mrs. Thwackem would avenge them by one or other of her domestic chastisements.
This vaticination of my sage Merlin of a schoolmaster has been fulfilled as far as I have hitherto proceeded in the journey of life. I am as yet a single man, and my own opinion is, that I shall continue to keep at a very respectful distance from the hymeneal alter. I must, however, acknowledge when I have been told by some of my new-married friends what an uncomfortable life I appear to lead, that I have begun to waver a little in my partiality to a single state; but, on the other hand, when some of my old-married acquaintance have declared what an enviable life mine was, I have been confirmed in my design to go a bachelor to my grave. In this resolution I have lately been more than ever confirmed by the conduct of a near relation of mine, who was brought up to the sea and was very fond of his profession: he, however, happened to marry a very pretty woman, with a very handsome fortune, when he retired into the country with his charming bride, spoke with disregard of a naval life, and, having got such a warm matrimonial birth, he hoped never to see the inside of a ship’s cabin again as long as he lived. Nevertheless, after he had enjoyed the undisturbed felicity of rural life, and the delights of connubial love, for about eighteen months, he came up to town, and, on my calling to see him, I was informed, to my extreme astonishment, that he was gone to the Admiralty to solicit a ship. On my meeting him the next day, he said that a life of indolence was unbecoming a man; that, in the present state of the country, it was disgraceful for a sailor to withhold his services; and that the most delightful thing in the world was a frigate and a cruise.
Such being my situation, it may be thought by certain unreflecting people, that I am not qualified to treat a subject of which matrimony forms the principal feature. This I shall, without the least reserve, take upon me to deny. I may not, it is true, be able to write from experimental facts; but I may be capable surely of forming an adequate judgment from attentive and unprejudiced observation. I bear no hostility to the wedded life as such: on the contrary, I believe it, when accompanied with pure love, perfect confidence, and similarity of disposition, to be the real heaven upon earth. But then, I know also, that when it is composed of different ingredients, which, according to my view of things, too often happens, it produces a very opposite condition, which I shall not venture to describe. This reflection so affects my nerves, which are not very strong, that I tremble at the idea of entering into a state whose happiness is so uncertain, and whose ordinary inconvenienies I have not the strength to encounter.
I am well aware, for it has never been my habit to be satisfied with superficial speculations, that matrimony is not only essential to the support, but the good order and happiness, of civil society. Thus matrimony forms families which could not be formed without it, and families form states which could not be formed without them. It was the first natural union which preceded and prepared mankind for civil union; and the bonds of the second union were more effectually strengthened by those paternal and filial affection and consanguinity, than they could have been by those alone of accidental interests liable to vary, and of covenants liable to be broken.
On such principles, and for such purposes, matrimony was instituted. This is my opinion, and if I were certain that I should produce heroes, or statesmen, or philosophers, men who would be eminently useful in society, I would take the first opportunity of changing my condition, and risk all domestic consequences for the sake of my country; but with such a puny frame and fine-strung nerves as nature has given me, with my habits of study and sentimental cast of character, I have more than a shrewd suspicion, that my offspring would be fit only to form petit-maitres and men milliners; a class of people, who, if they were banished from the world, it would be the better for their dismission. It is not, I repeat it, from any aversion to the married state, that I keep at an awful distance from the temple of Hymen. On the contrary, I reverence his rites, though I am not one of his immediate votaries. It is not that I am indifferent to women, for I find the principal charm of life in their society. In short, I do not venture into the matrimonial lottery from the trembling apprehension that I should draw a blank, or which is equally probable, be a blank myself.
Plato has a very beautiful allegory on love and marriage, which will illustrate my feelings on these important subjects in a much better manner than I can do it for myself.
Mankind, as fabulously presumed by that amiable, benevolent, but fanciful, philosopher, were not, in their original state, divided into male and female as at present; but each individual person was a compound of both sexes, and was in himself both husband and wife, melted down into one living creature. This union must have been, under such supposition, perfect and entire, and the parts admirably adjusted together, since there resulted an uninterrupted harmony between the male and female, although they were thus compelled to be inseparable companions. In short, says the fable, so great was the happiness flowing from it, that these MEN-WOMEN, as Plato calls them, became insolent upon their prosperity, and rebelled against the gods. To punish them for their temerity, Jupiter could contrive no better expedient than to divorce the male part from the female, and make two imperfect beings of the compound, which was before so perfect. Hence the origin of men and women as distinct creatures. But notwithstanding this division, so lively is our remembrance of the happiness which we enjoyed in our primeval state, that we are never at rest in this situation; but each of these halves is continually searching through the whole species to find the other half which was broken from it, and when they meet they join again with the greatest fondness and sympathy. But it too often happens that they are mistaken in this particular, so that they take for their half what in no way corresponds with them, and then the parts do not meet nor join in with each other, as is usual in fractures. In this case the union is soon dissolved, and each part is set loose again to hunt for its lost half, joining itself to every one whom it meets by way of trial; and enjoying no rest till its perfect sympathy with its partner shews that it has, at last, been successful in its endeavours.
From this very ingenious fable Dr. Watts borrowed the thought on which he has founded his little poem entitled Few happy Matches; and Hume has carried on and completed this fiction of the Greek philosopher with his characteristic ingenuity, and in the following manner:
When Jupiter had separated the male from the female, and had quelled their pride and ambition by so severe an operation, he repented of the cruelty of his resentment, and compassionated the situation of poor mortals, who were now become incapable of repose or tranquility. Such cravings, anxieties, and necessities arose, as made them curse their creation, and think existence itself a punishment. In vain had they recourse to every other occupation and amusement. In vain did they seek after every pleasure of sense and refinement of reason. Nothing could fill that void which they felt in their hearts, or supply the loss of their partner, who was so fatally separated from them. To remedy this disorder, and to bestow some comfort, at least, on the human race in their forlorn situation, Jupiter sent down Love and Hymen to collect the broken halves of mankind, and to piece them together in the best possible manner. These two deities found suck a prompt disposition in mankind to unite again in their primitive state, that they proceeded on their work, for some time, with the most uninterrupted success; till, at last, from various unlucky accidents, a dissention arose between them. The chief counsellor and favourite of Hymen was Care, who was continually filling his patron’ head with prospects of futurity, such as settlements, family, children, and domestic arrangements, so that little else was regarded in all the matches they made. On the other hand, Love had chosen Pleasure for his favourite, who proved as pernicious a counsellor as the other, and would never allow Love to look beyond the present momentary gratification or the satisfying the prevailing inclination. These two favourites became, in a very short time, irreconcileable enemies, and made it their chief business to undermine each other in all the undertakings. No sooner had Love fixed upon two halves, which he was cementing together and forming to a close union, than Care insinuates himself, and, bringing Hymen along with him, dissolves the union produced by Love, and joins each half to some other half which he had provided for it. To be revenged of this insidious conduct, Pleasure creeps in upon a pair already joined by Hymen, and calling Love to his assistance, they underhand contrive to join each half by secret links to halves with which Hymen was wholly unacquainted. It was not long before this quarrel was felt in its pernicious consequences; and such complaints arose before the throne of Jupiter, that he ordered the offending parties to be summoned before him, when, after hearing the pleadings on both sides, he ordered an immediate reconciliation betwixt Love and Hymen, as the only expedient for giving happiness to mankind. And that he might be sure this reconciliation should be durable, he laid his injunctions on them, never to join any halves without consulting Care and Pleasure, and the obtaining the consent of both to the conjunction. Where this order is strictly observed the two beings combine to form one happy creature.
Such are the principles, and such the chances, on which matrimonial happiness is founded. I acknowledge the former, but I have not nerve enough to risk the latter. But it may be asked of me, how I, who pretend to fulfil the duties of life, can venture to acknowledge a disobedience to that essential command which tells me to increase and multiply. I have, however, my answer at hand in the form of a younger brother, who is about to be married, not only with my consent, but by my desire. I propose to settle very handsomely on the marriage, and shall leave my fortune to the issue of it. I, therefore, Mr. Spectator, hope you will be of opinion, that I shall have fulfilled this great end of my creation, by qualifying honest Jack to do that for me which I feel such an apprehension of doing for myself; and that, under these circumstances, I may hope to die in peace, though I die
AN OLD BACHELOR.