Part 12 (1/2)
At least five of them could go out every night in the week. The matter could be arranged according to a simple system of rotation, or they might draw lots. There could be a club-room in the house, where they might smoke without affecting the curtains and Madam's temper. Politics and poker make more widows than war, but no woman could find it in her heart to object to the innocent pastime under such happy circ.u.mstances, because she would be deprived of nothing--not even her husband's society. Six of them might play, while the other read to their wife, and those who won could buy some lovely new china for the house.
The sweetness of the lady of their several hearts would be increased seven-fold, while her frowns would be equally divided among them. There would be a large and enviable freedom accorded everyone. There would always be enough at home so dinner need not wait, and Madam would be spared one great annoyance. If the servants left suddenly, as is not unusual, there would be men enough to cook a dinner Epicurus might envy, each one using his own chafing-dish. Men make better cooks than women because they put so much more feeling into it.
The spirit of gentle rivalry, which would thus be developed, is well worth considering. Some one of the seven would always be a lover. To sustain the old relation continuously after marriage undoubtedly requires gifts of tact and temperament which are not often vouchsafed to men, and this would not prove so irksome if the tender obligation were shared. Marriage would no longer be the cold potato of love.
Different men always admire different qualities of the same woman, and the beauty of the much-married lady would be developed far beyond that of her who had only one husband, because a recognised virtue is stimulated.
If a man admires a woman's teeth, she gets new kinds of dentifrice and constantly endeavours to add to their whiteness. If he speaks approvingly of her hair, various tonics are purchased. If he alludes to her mellow voice, she tries conscientiously to make it more beautiful still.
There is a suspected but not verified relation between a man's affection and his digestion. With this ideal method of marriage in force, the dyspeptics could go off by themselves until they felt better, and not be bothered with tender inquiries concerning their health. If the latch key unaccountably refused to work at two o'clock in the morning, some other member of the husband could always a.s.sist the absent ones in, and Madam would never know how many were late.
[Sidenote: The Financial Burden]
The financial burden would indeed be light. The household expenses might be divided equally and relieving the wife's necessities would be the happiness of all. One might a.s.sume the responsibility of her gowns, another of her hats and gloves, another might keep her supplied with bonbons, matinee tickets, flowers, and silk stockings, another might attend to her jackets and her club dues, her jewels might be the care of another, and so on. It would be the joy of all of them to see their peerless wife well dressed, and when she wanted anything in particular, she need only smile sweetly upon the one whose happy lot it was to have charge of that department of expense.
There would be no friction, no discord. Madam would be blissfully content, and men have claimed for years that they could live together much more amicably than women, and that they never quarrel among themselves, save in rare instances. This, they say, is because they are so liberal in their views, but a great many men are so broad-minded that it makes their heads flat.
It is strange that this happy form of polygamy did not occur to Herr Schopenhauer. It may be because he was a pessimist--and a man.
[Sidenote: The Most Nervous Time]
The most nervous time of a man's life is the day of his wedding. The bachelors and benedicts give different reasons for this when they are gently approached upon the subject, but the majority admit, with lovable and refres.h.i.+ng conceit, that it is because of their innate modesty and their aversion to conspicuous prominence.
If this is truly the reason, the widespread fear may be much lessened, for in the grand matrimonial pageant, the man is the most obscure member of the procession. People are not apt to think of him at all until the ceremony is over and the girl has a new name. What he wears is of no consequence, and he has no wedding gifts, though he may be remembered for a moment if he gives a diamond star to the bride. Yet it is this ceremony which changes him from a va.s.sal to a king. Before marriage he is a low and useless trump, but afterward he is ace high in the game.
[Sidenote: A Trip Down Town]
A latter-day philosopher has beautifully likened marriage to a trip down-town. A man leaves the house in the morning, his mind already active concerning the affairs of the day. His newspaper is in his pocket, he has plenty of time to reach the office, and his breakfast has begun to a.s.similate. Suddenly he sees a yellow speck on the horizon.
He calculates the distance to the corner and quickens his pace, his eyes n.o.bly fixed meanwhile upon the goal of his ambition. Anxiety develops, then fear. At last he surrenders all dignity and gallops madly toward the approaching car, with his coat tails spread to the morning breeze and tears in his eyes. Out of breath, but triumphant, he swings on just as farther pursuit seemed well-nigh hopeless.
Does he stop to chat cheerily with the conductor? Does he dwell upon the luxurious aspect of his conveyance? Does the comfort which he has just secured fill his heart with gladness? Does the plush covering of the seat appeal to his aesthetic sense? No mere woman may ever hope to know, for he grudgingly gives the conductor five pennies, one of them badly battered and the date beaten out of it--and devotes himself to his paper.
[Sidenote: The Masculine Mental Process]
The thing which appears unattainable is ever desired by man. A girl who wears an engagement ring upon her finger has a charm for which the unattached sigh in vain. The masculine mental process in such a case, briefly summarised, is something like this.
I. ”Wonder who that girl is over there? Red hair and quite a bit of style. Never cared much for red hair--suppose she's got freckles too.
Now she's coming this way. Why, there's a solitaire on her finger; she's engaged. Well, he can have her--I won't cut him out. Wonder who she is!
II. ”Really, she isn't so bad--I've seen worse. She knows how to dress, and she hasn't so many freckles. Brown eyes--that means temper when a.s.sociated with red hair. Must be quite a little trick to tame a girl like that. She doesn't look as though she were quite subdued.
III. ”He probably doesn't know how to manage her. I could train her all right. I wouldn't mind doing it; I haven't anything much on hand in the girl line. So that's the cad she's engaged to? Poor little girl!
IV. ”I feel sorry for that girl, I honestly do. She's throwing herself away. She can't love that fellow. She'll get over it when she's married, and be miserable all the rest of her life. I suppose I ought to save her from him. I think I'll talk to her about it, but it will have to be done cautiously.
V. ”Fine young woman, that. Broad-minded, bright, vivacious, and not half bad to look at. Seemed to take my advice in good part. Those great, deep brown eyes are pathetic. That's the kind of a girl to be s.h.i.+elded and guarded from all the hard knocks in the world.
VI. ”The more I see of that girl, the more I think of her. Those Frenchy touches of dress and that superb red hair make her beautiful. I always did like red hair. Honestly, I think she's the prettiest girl I ever saw. And her womanliness matches her beauty. Any man might be proud of winning a girl like that.