of the argument by which the bachelor convinces himself that he is
happy. If it _does_ contribute to his peace of mind, why should the
world care? And the world really does not care. When he comes to have
his gruel stewed for him in a hospital, or, worse yet, a boarding-house,
he finds out, all of a sudden, that he is really in the way, and that,
in his life of perfect selfishness, he has never secured that thing
which cannot be bought, yet which he so yearns for now in the hour of
his feebleness, a woman's love. A good long sickness has greatly
enlarged many a man's philosophy!
Still, it is not in the destiny of every man to have a wife, or to keep
her if he get one. It is not unwise, therefore to consider that state as
one of the phases of life, and to contemplate its various aspects, good
and bad, as we have the other conditions of existence. "A man unattached
and without wife," says Bruyere, "if he have any genius at all, may
raise himself above his original position, may mingle with the world of
fashion, and hold himself on a level with the highest; this is less
easy for him who is engaged; it seems as if marriage put the whole world
in their proper rank." "I have" says Burton, the melancholy, "no wife or
children, good or bad, to provide for, and am a mere spectator of other
men's fortunes and adventures."