An English girl will hardly let her lover see the stale dirt between her
fingers, as I have many times seen it between those of French women, and
even ladies, of all ages. An English girl will have her _face_ clean, to
be sure, if there be soap and water within her reach; but, get a glance,
just a glance, at her _poll_, if you have any doubt upon the subject;
and, if you find there, or _behind the ears_, what the Yorkshire people
call _grime_, the sooner you cease your visits the better. I hope, now,
that no young woman will be offended at this, and think me too severe on
her sex. I am only saying, I am only telling the women, that which _all
men think_; and, it is a decided advantage to them to be fully informed
of _our thoughts_ on the subject. If any one, who shall read this, find,
upon self-examination, that she is defective in this respect, there is
plenty of time for correcting the defect.
113. In the _dress_ you can, amongst rich people, find little whereon to
form a judgment as to cleanliness, because they have not only the dress
prepared for them, but _put upon them_ into the bargain. But, in the
middle rank of life, the dress is a good criterion in two respects:
first, as to its _colour_; for, if the _white_ be a sort of _yellow_,
cleanly hands would have been at work to prevent that. A _white-yellow_
cravat, or shirt, on a man, speaks, at once, the character of his wife;
and, be you assured, that she will not take with your dress pains which
she has never taken with her own. Then, the manner _of putting on_ the
dress is no bad foundation for judging. If it be careless, slovenly, if
it do not fit properly, no matter for its _mean quality_: mean as it may
be, it may be neatly and trimly put on; and, if it be not, take care of
yourself; for, as you will soon find to your cost, a sloven in one thing
is a sloven in all things. The country-people judge greatly from the
state of the covering of the _ancles_ and, if that be not clean and
tight, they conclude, that all out of sight is not what it ought to be.
Look at the _shoes_! If they be trodden on one side, loose on the foot,
or run down at the heel, it is a very bad sign; and, as to _slip-shod_,
though at coming down in the morning and even before day-light, make up
your mind to a rope, rather than to live with a slip-shod wife.
114. Oh! how much do women lose by inattention to these matters! Men, in
general, say nothing about it to their wives; but they _think_ about it;
they envy their luckier neighbours; and in numerous cases, consequences
the most serious arise from this apparently trifling cause. Beauty is
valuable; it is one of the ties, and a strong tie too; that, however,
cannot last to old age; but, the charm of cleanliness never ends but
with life itself. I dismiss this part of my subject with a quotation
from my 'YEAR'S RESIDENCE IN AMERICA,' containing words which I venture
to recommend to every young woman to engrave on her heart: 'The sweetest
flowers, when they become putrid, stink the most; and a nasty woman is
the nastiest thing in nature.'
115. KNOWLEDGE OF DOMESTIC AFFAIRS. Without more or less of this
knowledge, _a lady_, even the wife of a peer, is but a poorish thing. It
was the fashion, in former times, for ladies to understand a great deal
about these affairs, and it would be very hard to make me believe that
this did not tend to promote the interests and honour of their husbands.
The affairs of a great family never can be _well_ managed, if left
_wholly_ to hirelings; and there are many parts of these affairs in
which it would be unseemly for the husband to meddle. Surely, no lady
can be too high in rank to make it proper for her to be well acquainted
with the characters and general demeanour of all the _female servants_.
To receive and give them characters is too much to be left to a servant,
however good, and of service however long. Much of the ease and
happiness of the great and rich must depend on the character of those by
whom they are served: they live under the same roof with them; they are
frequently the children of their tenants, or poorer neighbours; the
conduct of their whole lives must be influenced by the examples and
precepts which they here imbibe; and when ladies consider how much more
weight there must be in one word from them than in ten thousand words
from a person who, call her what you like, is still a _fellow-servant_,
it does appear strange that they should forego the performance of this
at once important and pleasing part of their duty. It was from the
mansions of noblemen and gentlemen, and not from boarding-schools, that
farmers and tradesmen formerly took their wives; and though these days
are gone, with little chance of returning, there is still something left
for ladies to do in checking that torrent of immorality which is now
crowding the streets with prostitutes and cramming the jails with
thieves.
116. I am, however, addressing myself, in this work, to persons in the
middle rank of life; and here a _knowledge of domestic affairs_ is so
necessary in every wife, that the lover ought to have it continually in
his eye. Not only a _knowledge_ of these affairs; not only to know how
things _ought to be done_, but how _to do them_; not only to know what
ingredients ought to be put into a pie or a pudding, but to be able _to
make_ the pie or the pudding. Young people, when they come together,
ought not, unless they have fortunes, or are in a great way of business,
to think about _servants_! Servants for what! To help them to eat and
drink and sleep? When children come, there must be some _help_ in a
farmer's or tradesman's house; but until then, what call for a servant
in a house, the master of which has to _earn_ every mouthful that is
consumed?
117. I shall, when I come to address myself to the husband, have much
more to say upon this subject of _keeping servants_; but, what the
lover, if he be not quite blind, has to look to, is, that his intended
wife know _how to do_ the work of a house, unless he have fortune
sufficient to keep her like a lady. 'Eating and drinking,' as I observe
in COTTAGE ECONOMY, came _three times every day_; they must come; and,
however little we may, in the days of our health and vigour, care about
choice food and about cookery, we very soon get _tired_ of heavy or
burnt bread and of spoiled joints of meat: we bear them for a time, or
for two, perhaps; but, about the third time, we lament _inwardly_; about
the fifth time, it must be an extraordinary honey-moon that will keep us
from complaining: if the like continue for a month or two, we begin to
_repent_, and then adieu to all our anticipated delights. We discover,
when it is too late, that we have not got a help-mate, but a burden;
and, the fire of love being damped, the unfortunately educated creature,
whose parents are more to blame than she is, is, unless she resolve to
learn her duty, doomed to lead a life very nearly approaching to that of
misery; for, however considerate the husband, he never can esteem her as
he would have done, had she been skilled and able in domestic affairs.
118. The mere _manual_ performance of domestic labours is not, indeed,
absolutely necessary in the female head of the family of professional
men, such as lawyers, doctors, and parsons; but, even here, and also in
the case of great merchants and of gentlemen living on their fortunes,
surely the head of the household ought to be able to give directions as
to the purchasing of meat, salting meat, making bread, making preserves
of all sorts, and ought to see the things done, or that they be done.
She ought to take care that food be well cooked, drink properly prepared
and kept; that there be always a sufficient supply; that there be good
living without waste; and that, in her department, nothing shall be seen
inconsistent with the rank, station, and character of her husband, who,
if he have a skilful and industrious wife, will, unless he be of a
singularly foolish turn, gladly leave all these things to her absolute
dominion, controlled only by the extent of the whole expenditure, of
which he must be the best, and, indeed, the sole, judge.
119. But, in a farmer's or a tradesman's family, the _manual
performance_ is absolutely necessary, whether there be servants or not.
No one knows how to teach another so well as one who has done, and can
do, the thing himself. It was said of a famous French commander, that,
in attacking an enemy, he did not say to his men '_go_ on,' but '_come_
on;' and, whoever have well observed the movements of servants, must
know what a prodigious difference there is in the effect of the words,
_go_ and _come_. A very good rule would be, to have nothing to eat, in a
farmer's or tradesman's house, that the mistress did not know how to
prepare and to cook; no pudding, tart, pie or cake, that she did not
know how to make. Never fear the toil to her: exercise is good for
health; and without _health_ there is _no beauty_; a sick beauty may
excite pity, but pity is a short-lived passion. Besides, what is the
labour in such a case? And how many thousands of ladies, who loll away
the day, would give half their fortunes for that sound sleep which the
stirring house-wife seldom fails to enjoy.
120. Yet, if a young farmer or tradesman _marry_ a girl, who has been
brought up to _play music_, to what is called _draw_, to _sing_, to
waste paper, pen and ink, in writing long and half romantic letters, and
to see shows, and plays, and read novels; if a young man do _marry_ such
an unfortunate young creature, let him bear the consequences with
temper; let him be _just_; and justice will teach him to treat her with
great indulgence; to endeavour to cause her to learn her business as a
wife; to be patient with her; to reflect that he has taken her, being
apprised of her inability; to bear in mind, that he was, or seemed to
be, pleased with her showy and useless acquirements; and that, when the
gratification of his passion has been accomplished, he is unjust and
cruel and unmanly, if he turn round upon her, and accuse her of a want
of that knowledge, which he well knew that she did not possess.
121. For my part, I do not know, nor can I form an idea of, a more
unfortunate being than a girl with a mere boarding-school education, and
without a fortune to enable her to keep a servant, when married. Of what
_use_ are her accomplishments? Of what use her music, her drawing, and
her romantic epistles? If she be good in _her nature_, the first little
faint cry of her first baby drives all the tunes and all the landscapes
and all the Clarissa Harlowes out of her head for ever. I once saw a
very striking instance of this sort. It was a climb-over-the-wall match,
and I gave the bride away, at St. Margaret's Church, Westminster, the
pair being as handsome a pair as ever I saw in my life. Beauty, however,
though in double quantity, would not pay the baker and butcher; and,
after an absence of little better than a year, I found the husband in
prison for debt; but I there found also his wife, with her baby, and
she, who had never, before her marriage, known what it was to get water
to wash her own hands, and whose talk was all about music, and the like,
was now the cheerful sustainer of her husband, and the most affectionate
of mothers. All the _music_ and all the _drawing_, and all the plays and
romances were gone to the winds! The husband and baby had fairly
supplanted them; and even this prison-scene was a blessing, as it gave
her, at this early stage, an opportunity of proving her devotion to her
husband, who, though I have not seen him for about fifteen years, he
being in a part of America which I could not reach when last there, has,
I am sure, amply repaid her for that devotion. They have now a numerous
family (not less than twelve children, I believe), and she is, I am
told, a most excellent and able mistress of a respectable house.
122. But, this is a rare instance: the husband, like his countrymen in
general, was at once brave, humane, gentle, and considerate, and the
love was so sincere and ardent, on both sides, that it made losses and
sufferings appear as nothing. When I, in a sort of half-whisper, asked
Mrs. DICKENS where her _piano_ was, she smiled, and turned her face
towards her baby, that was sitting on her knee; as much as to say, 'This
little fellow has beaten the piano;' and, if what I am now writing
should ever have the honour to be read by her, let it be the bearer of a
renewed expression of my admiration of her conduct, and of that regard
for her kind and sensible husband, which time and distance have not in
the least diminished, and which will be an inmate of my heart until it
shall cease to beat.
123. The like of this is, however, not to be expected: no man ought to
think that he has even a chance of it: besides, the husband was, in this
case, a man of learning and of great natural ability: he has not had to
get his bread by farming or trade; and, in all probability, his wife has
had the leisure to practise those acquirements which she possessed at
the time of her marriage. But, can this be the case with the farmer or
the tradesman's wife? She has to _help to earn_ a provision for her
children; or, at the least, to help to earn a store for sickness or old
age. She, therefore, ought to be qualified to begin, at once, to assist
her husband in his earnings: the way in which she can most efficiently
assist, is by taking care of his property; by expending his money to the
greatest advantage; by wasting nothing; by making the table sufficiently
abundant with the least expense. And how is she to do these things,
unless she have been _brought up_ to understand domestic affairs? How is
she to do these things, if she have been taught to think these matters
beneath her study? How is any man to expect her to do these things, if
she have been so bred up as to make her habitually look upon them as
worthy the attention of none but low and _ignorant_ women?
124. _Ignorant_, indeed! Ignorance consists in a want of knowledge of
those things which your calling or state of life naturally supposes you
to understand. A ploughman is not an _ignorant man_ because he does not
know how to read: if he knows how to plough, he is not to be called an
ignorant man; but, a wife may be justly called an ignorant woman, if she
does not know how to provide a dinner for her husband. It is cold
comfort for a hungry man, to tell him how delightfully his wife plays
and sings: lovers may live on very aërial diet; but husbands stand in
need of the solids; and young women may take my word for it, that a
constantly clean board, well cooked victuals, a house in order, and a
cheerful fire, will do more in preserving a husband's heart, than all
the '_accomplishments_,' taught in all the '_establishments_' in the
world.
125. GOOD TEMPER. This is a very difficult thing to ascertain
beforehand. Smiles are so cheap; they are so easily put on for the
occasion; and, besides, the frowns are, according to the lover's whim,
interpreted into the contrary. By '_good temper_,' I do not mean _easy
temper_, a serenity which nothing disturbs, for that is a mark of
laziness. _Sulkiness_, if you be not too blind to perceive it, is a
temper to be avoided by all means. A sulky man is bad enough; what,
then, must be a sulky woman, and that woman _a wife_; a constant inmate,
a companion day and night! Only think of the delight of sitting at the
same table, and sleeping in the same bed, for a week, and not exchange a
word all the while! Very bad to be scolding for such a length of time;
but this is far better than the sulks. If you have your eyes, and look
sharp, you will discover symptoms of this, if it unhappily exist. She
will, at some time or other, show it towards some one or other of the
family; or, perhaps, towards yourself; and you may be quite sure that,
in this respect, marriage will not mend her. Sulkiness arises from
capricious displeasure, displeasure not founded in reason. The party
takes offence unjustifiably; is unable to frame a complaint, and
therefore expresses displeasure by silence. The remedy for sulkiness is,
to suffer it to take its _full swing_; but it is better not to have the
disease in your house; and to be _married to it_ is little short of
madness.
126. _Querulousness_ is a great fault. No man, and, especially, no
_woman_, likes to hear eternal plaintiveness. That she complain, and
roundly complain, of your want of punctuality, of your coolness, of your
neglect, of your liking the company of others: these are all very well,
more especially as they are frequently but too just. But an everlasting
complaining, without rhyme or reason, is a bad sign. It shows want of
patience, and, indeed, want of sense. But, the contrary of this, a _cold
indifference_, is still worse. 'When will you come again? You can never
find time to come here. You like any company better than mine.' These,
when groundless, are very teasing, and demonstrate a disposition too
full of anxiousness; but, from a girl who always receives you with the
same _civil_ smile, lets you, at your own good pleasure, depart with the
same; and who, when you take her by the hand, holds her cold fingers as
straight as sticks, I say (or should if I were young), God, in his
mercy, preserve me!
127. _Pertinacity_ is a very bad thing in anybody, and especially in a
young woman; and it is sure to increase in force with the age of the
party. To have the last word is a poor triumph; but with some people it
is a species of disease of the mind. In a wife it must be extremely
troublesome; and, if you find an ounce of it in the maid, it will become
a pound in the wife. An eternal _disputer_ is a most disagreeable
companion; and where young women thrust their _say_ into conversations
carried on by older persons, give their opinions in a positive manner,
and court a contest of the tongue, those must be very bold men who will
encounter them as wives.
128. Still, of all the faults as to _temper_, your _melancholy_ ladies
have the worst, unless you have the same mental disease. Most wives are,
at times, _misery-makers_; but these carry it on as a regular trade.
They are always unhappy about _something_, either past, present, or to
come. Both arms full of children is a pretty efficient remedy in most
cases; but, if the ingredients be wanting, a little _want_, a little
_real trouble_, a little _genuine affliction_ must, if you would effect
a cure, be resorted to. But, this is very painful to a man of any
feeling; and, therefore, the best way is to avoid a connexion, which is
to give you a life of wailing and sighs.
129. BEAUTY. Though I have reserved this to the last of the things to be
desired in a wife, I by no means think it the last in point of
importance. The less favoured part of the sex say, that 'beauty is but
_skin-deep_;' and this is very true; but, it is very _agreeable_,
though, for all that. Pictures are only paint-deep, or pencil-deep; but
we admire them, nevertheless. "Handsome is that handsome _does_," used
to say to me an old man, who had marked me out for his not over handsome
daughter. 'Please your _eye_ and plague your heart' is an adage that
want of beauty invented, I dare say, more than a thousand years ago.
These adages would say, if they had but the courage, that beauty is
inconsistent with chastity, with sobriety of conduct, and with all the
female virtues. The argument is, that beauty exposes the possessor _to
greater temptation_ than women not beautiful are exposed to; and that,
_therefore_, their fall is more probable. Let us see a little how this
matter stands.
130. It is certainly true, that pretty girls will have more, and more
ardent, admirers than ugly ones; but, as to the _temptation_ when in
their unmarried state, there are few so very ugly as to be exposed to no
_temptation_ at all; and, which is the most likely to resist; she who
has a choice of lovers, or she who if she let the occasion slip may
never have it again? Which of the two is most likely to set a high value
upon her reputation, she whom all beholders admire, or she who is
admired, at best, by mere chance? And as to women in the married state,
this argument assumes, that, when they fall, it is from their own
vicious disposition; when the fact is, that, if you search the annals of
conjugal infidelity, you will find, that, nine times out of ten, the
_fault is in the husband_. It is his neglect, his flagrant disregard,
his frosty indifference, his foul example; it is to these that, nine
times out of ten, he owes the infidelity of his wife; and, if I were to
say ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the facts, if verified, would, I
am certain, bear me out. And whence this neglect, this disregard, this
frosty indifference; whence this foul example? Because it is easy, in so
many cases, to find some woman more beautiful than the wife. This is no
_justification_ for the husband to plead; for he has, with his eyes
open, made a solemn contract: if he have not beauty enough to please
him, he should have sought it in some other woman: if, as is frequently
the case, he have preferred rank or money to beauty, he is an
unprincipled man, if he do any thing to make her unhappy who has brought
him the rank or the money. At any rate, as conjugal infidelity is, in so
many cases; as it is _generally_ caused by the want of affection and due
attention in the husband, it follows, of course, that it must more
frequently happen in the case of ugly than in that of handsome women.
131. In point of _dress_, nothing need be said to convince any
reasonable man, that beautiful women will be less expensive in this
respect than women of a contrary description. Experience teaches us,
that ugly women are always the most studious about their dress; and, if
we had never observed upon the subject, _reason_ would tell us, that it
must be so. Few women are handsome without knowing it; and if they know
that their features naturally attract admiration, will they desire to
draw it off, and to fix it on lace and silks and jewels?
132. As to _manners_ and _temper_ there are certainly some handsome
women who are conceited and arrogant; but, as they have all the best
reasons in the world for being pleased with themselves, they afford you
the best chance of general good humour; and this good humour is a very
valuable commodity in the married state. Some that are called handsome,
and that are such at the first glance, are dull, inanimate things, that
might as well have been made of wax, or of wood. But, the truth is, that
this is _not beauty_, for this is not to be found _only_ in the _form_
of the features, but in the movements of them also. Besides, here nature
is very impartial; for she gives animation promiscuously to the handsome
as well as to the ugly; and the want of this in the former is surely as
bearable as in the latter.
133. But, the great use of female beauty, the great practical advantage
of it is, that it naturally and unavoidably tends to _keep the husband
in good humour with himself_, to make him, to use the dealer's phrase,
_pleased with his bargain_. When old age approaches, and the parties
have become endeared to each other by a long series of joint cares and
interests, and when children have come and bound them together by the
strongest ties that nature has in store; at this age the features and
the person are of less consequence; but, in the _young days_ of
matrimony, when the roving eye of the bachelor is scarcely become steady
in the head of the husband, it is dangerous for him to see, every time
he stirs out, a face more captivating than that of the person to whom he
is bound for life. Beauty is, in some degree, a matter of _taste_: what
one man admires, another does not; and it is fortunate for us that it is
thus. But still there are certain things that all men admire; and a
husband is always pleased when he perceives that a portion, at least, of
these things are in his own possession: he takes this possession as a
_compliment to himself_: there must, he will think the world will
believe, have been _some merit in him_, some charm, seen or unseen, to
have caused him to be blessed with the acquisition.
134. And then there arise so many things, sickness, misfortune in
business, losses, many many things, wholly unexpected; and, there are so
many circumstances, perfectly _nameless_, to communicate to the
new-married man the fact, that it is not a real _angel_ of whom he has
got the possession; there are so many things of this sort, so many and
such powerful dampers of the passions, and so many incentives to _cool
reflection_; that it requires something, and a good deal too, to keep
the husband in countenance in this his altered and enlightened state.
The passion of women does not cool so soon: the lamp of their love burns
more steadily, and even brightens as it burns: and, there is, the young
man may be assured, a vast difference in the effect of the fondness of a
pretty woman and that of one of a different description; and, let reason
and philosophy say what they will, a man will come down stairs of a
morning better pleased after seeing the former, than he would after
seeing the latter, in her _night-cap_.