THERE are certain pairs of old-fashioned-looking pictures, in blackframes generally, and most commonly glazed with greenish and crookedcrown glass, to be occasionally met with in brokers' shops, or moreoften, perhaps, on cottage walls, and sometimes in the dingy, smokyparlour of a village tavern or ale-house, which said picturescontain and exhibit a lively and impressive moral. Some of ourreaders, doubtless, have seen and been edified by these ancientengravings; and, for the benefit of those who have not, we willdescribe them.
The first picture of the pair represents a blooming and blushingdamsel, well bedecked in frock of pure white muslin, if memoryserves us faithfully, very scanty and very short-waisted, as was thefashion fifty years ago, and may again be the fashion in less thanfifty years hence, for aught we can tell. Over this frock is worn agay spencer, trimmed with lace and ornamented with anunexceptionable frill, while the damsel's auburn curls aresurmounted with a hat of straw fluttering with broad, true blueribbons, which fasten it in a true love-knot, under the dimpledchin.
Her companion (for she has a companion) is a young countryman inglossy boots, tight buckskins, gay flapped waistcoat, blue or brownlong-waisted and broad-skirted coat, frilled shirt, and whitekerchief, innocent of starch, who smiles most lovingly, as with fonddevotion [here, gentle reader, is the moral of the picture], hebends lowlily, and chivalrously places at the disposal of the fairlady, hand, arm, and manly strength, as she pauses before ahigh-backed stile which crosses the path, leading, if we mistakenot, to the village church. Beneath this picture, reader, in Romancapitals, are the words:--"BEFORE MARRIAGE."
We turn to the second picture; and there may be seen the samehigh-backed stile, the same path, and the same passengers. Painfullyand awkwardly is the lady represented as endeavouring, unaided, toclimb the rails, while beyond her is the companion of her formerwalk--her companion still, but not her helper--slowly sauntering on,and looking back with an ominous frown, as though chiding the delay.Beneath this picture are the significant words:--"AFTER MARRIAGE."
One could wish these pictures were only pictures; but, in soberearnest, they are allegories, and too truthfully portray what passescontinually before our eyes: the difference, to wit, between the twostates there presented. Truly, indeed, has it been said, "Time andpossession too frequently lessen our attachment to objects that wereonce most valued, to enjoy which no difficulties were thoughtinsurmountable, no trials too great, and no pain too severe. Such,also, is the tenure by which we hold all terrestrial happiness, andsuch the instability of all human estimation! And though the ties ofconjugal affection are calculated to promote, as well as to securepermanent felicity, yet many, it is to be feared, have just reasonto exclaim,
"'Once to prevent my wishes Philo flew; But time, that alters all, has altered you.'
"It is, perhaps, not to be expected that a man can retain throughlife that assiduity by which he pleases for a day or a month. Care,however, should be taken that he do not so far relax his vigilanceas to induce a belief that his affection is diminished. Fewdisquietudes occur in domestic life which might not have beenprevented; and those so frequently witnessed, generally arise from awant of attention to those mutual endearments which all have intheir power to perform, and which, as they are essential to thepreservation of happiness, should never be intentionally omitted."
This witness, dear reader, is true. The neglect of those littleattentions which every married couple have it in their power to showto each other, daily, hourly, is a sure method of underminingdomestic happiness. Let every married reader bear this in mind, andreflect upon it; for it is an undeniable truth.
It was a full quarter of a century ago that the writer first saw thepair of engravings which he has described. They were hanging overthe fire-place of a newly-married cottager. "There," said she,laughing, as she pointed to the second picture; "you see what I haveto expect."
She did not expect it, though! Such an attentive, kind, andself-denying lover, as her "old man," as she called him in sport,had been, would never change into a morose brute, who could sufferhis wife to climb over an awkward stile without help, and scold herfor her clumsiness.
Reader, not many months since we saw poor Mary, prematurely gray andtime-stricken. For years she has been living apart from her husband,her children scattered abroad in the world, and she is sad andsolitary. And thus it was:--He, the trusted one, tired of beingthe fond lover of the picture, soon began to show himself thehusband. She, the confiding one, stunned by some instances ofneglect, reproached and taunted. He resented these reproaches asunjust, and to prove them so, redoubled his inattentiveness to her,absented himself from home, and bestowed his attentions elsewhere.She copied his example, and by way of punishment in kind, lavishedher smiles and kindnesses in other quarters. He--but why go on?Years--sad years of crimination and recrimination, of provocation,and bitter reproaches, and suspicion, and mutual jealousy, anddislike, and hatred, wore away. At length they parted. What becameof the pair of pictures, we often wonder.
"For about two years after I was married," says Cobbett, in hisAdvice to a Husband, "I retained some of my military manners, andused to romp most famously with the girls that came in my way; tillone day, at Philadelphia, my wife said to me, in a very gentlemanner 'Don't do that, I do not like it.' That was quite enough; Ihad never thought on the subject before; one hair of her head wasmore dear to me than all the other women in the world, and this Iknew that she knew; but I now saw that this was not all that she hada right to from me; I saw that she had the further claim upon methat I should abstain from everything that might induce others tobelieve that there was any other woman for whom, even if I were atliberty, I had any affection."
"I beseech young married men," continues he, "to bear this in mind;for, on some trifle of this sort the happiness or misery of a longlife frequently turns. If the mind of a wife be disturbed on thisscore, every possible means ought to be used to restore it to peace;and though her suspicions be perfectly groundless--though they bewild as the dreams of madmen--though they may present a mixture ofthe furious and the ridiculous, still the are to be treated with thegreatest lenity and tenderness; and if, after all, you fail, thefrailty is to be lamented as a misfortune, and not punished as afault, seeing that it must have its foundation in a feeling towardsyou, which it would be the basest of ingratitude, and the mostferocious of cruelty, to repay by harshness of any description."
"The truth is," adds the same writer, "that the greatest security ofall against jealousy in a wife is to show, to prove by your acts,by your words also, but more especially by your acts, that youprefer her to all the world; and I know of no act that is, in thisrespect, equal to spending in her company every moment of yourleisure time. Everybody knows, and young wives better than anybodyelse, that people, who can choose, will be where they like best tobe, and that they will be along with those whose company they likebest. The matter is very plain; and I do beseech you to bear it inmind. Nor do I see the use, or sense, of keeping a great deal ofcompany as it is called. What company can a man and woman want morethan their two selves, and their children, if they have any? If herebe not company enough, it is but a sad affair. This hankering aftercompany proves, clearly proves, that you want something beyond thesociety of your wife; and that she is sure to feel most acutely;the bare fact contains an imputation against her, and it is prettysure to lay the foundation of jealousy, or of something stillworse."
Addressed, as these sentiments are, to the husband, they are equallyapplicable to the wife; and on the part of domestic happiness, weurge upon our readers, all, to prove their constancy of attachment,by mutual kind offices and delicate attentions, in health and insickness, in joy and in sorrow; by abstinence from all that maywound; and by an honest preference of home enjoyments above allother enjoyments.
But to keep alive this honest preference, there must be,--inaddition to other good qualifications which have heretofore passedunder review,
1. Constant cheerfulness and good humour. A wife and mother who isperpetually fretful and peevish; who has nothing to utter to herhusband when he returns from his daily occupation, whatever it maybe, or to her children when they are assembled around her, butcomplaints of her hard lot and miserable destiny; who is alwaysbrooding over past sorrows, or anticipating future evils; does allshe can, unconsciously it may be, to make her hearth desolate, andto mar for ever domestic happiness. And the husband and father whobrings to that hearth a morose frown, or a gloomy brow; who silencesthe prattling tongue of infancy by a stern command; who suffers theannoyances and cares of life to cut into his heart's core, andrefuses to be comforted or charmed by the thousand endearments ofher whom he has sworn to love and cherish; such a one does notdeserve domestic happiness.
Young reader, and expectant of future domestic bliss take a word ofadvice: Be good-tempered. You have not much to try your patiencenow; by-and-by your trials will come on. Now, then, is the time topractise good-temper in the little vexations of life, so as toprepare you for future days. No doubt there are many little rubs andjars to fret and shake even you; many small things, not over andabove agreeable to put up with. Bear them you must; but do try andbear them without losing your temper. If a man have a stubborn Orskittish horse to manage, he knows that the best way to deal with itis by gentle, good-humoured coaxing. Just so it is in other things:kindness, gentleness, and downright good-humour will do what all theblustering and anger in the world can not accomplish. If a wagonwheel creaks and works stiff, or if it skids instead of turninground, you know well enough that it wants oiling. Well, always carrya good supply of the oil of good temper about with you, and use itwell on every needful occasion; no fear then of creaking wheels asyou move along the great highway of life.
Then, on the part, still, of domestic happiness, would we earnestlyadvise a decent, nay, a strict regard to personal habits, so far,at least, as the feelings of others are concerned. "It is seldom."writes a traveller, "that I find associates in inns who come up tomy ideas of what is right and proper in personal habits. The most ofthem indulge, more or less, in devil's tattooing, in snapping offingers, in puffing and blowing, and other noises, anomalous andindescribable, often apparently merely to let the other people inthe room know that they are there, and not thinking of anything inparticular. Few seem to be under any sense of the propriety ofsubduing as much as possible all sounds connected with the animalfunctions, though even breathing might, and ought to be managed inperfect silence." Now, if it were only in inns that disagreeablepersonal habits are practised, it would not much interfere with thehappiness of nine-tenths of the people in the world; but themisfortune is that home is the place where they are to be noticedin full swing--to use a common expression. Indeed, perhaps there arefew persons who do not, in a degree at least, mar domestic happinessby persisting in personal peculiarities which they know areunpleasant to those around them. Harmless these habits maybe inthemselves, perhaps; but inasmuch as they are teasing, annoying, andirritating to others, they are not harmless. Nay, they are criminal,because they are accompanied by a most unamiable disregard to thefeelings of others.
To make home truly happy, the mind must be cultivated. It is allvery well to say that a man and his wife, and their children, ifthey have any, ought to be company enough for each other, withoutseeking society elsewhere; and it is quite right that it should beso: but what if they have nothing to say to each other, asreasonable and thinking beings?--nothing to communicate beyond theveriest common-places--nothing to learn from each other?--nothingbut mere animal enjoyments in common? Imagine such a case, reader,where father, mother, and children are sunk in grossest ignorance,without knowledge, without intellectual resources, or evenintellectual powers, without books, or any acquaintance with books,or any desire for such acquaintance! What domestic happiness canthere be in such a case? As well might we talk of the domestichappiness of a Dog-kennel or sheep-pen, a stable or a pig-stye. Andjust in proportion as ignorance predominates, so are the chances ofdomestic happiness diminished. Where there is great ignorance, andcontentment with ignorance, there is vice; and vice is nothappiness--it cannot be. Therefore, all other things equal, thatfamily will have the greatest chance of the greatest share ofdomestic happiness where each member of it has the mind to take in,and the heart to give out, a constant succession of fresh ideas,gained from observation, experience, and books. Reader, think ofthese things.